LH: Measure of a Monster
by baywinger
Summary: Mick calls on Andy to help him solve a disturbing case.
1. Chapter 1

Here's the third story arc for "Lady Hawk". It follows straight from "Out of the Past" and episode 3 (except for the hallway scene.)

WB and SP own all Moonlight characters and story-lines. No copywrite infringement intended. Author reserves the rights to "Lady Hawk" and all original characters, stories, and work below.

**LH: Measure of a Monster**

_What do you do when the one thing you need to survive is the one thing that would make life unbearable?_

"Mark?" Andy steps gingerly through the front door and is immediately greeted with a whippet planting his front paws into her pancreas. "Hey there buddy, where's your daddy?" Metallic squeaking accompanying the thudding of wriggling bodies and wagging tails in the two crates under the window to her right answers her question. "Hi girlies. Guess he had to go into work today." She lets the two girls out of their boxes and doles out scritches to all three dogs. A tempest of white and brown swirls around her knees as two whippets and a Jack Russell compete for sole access to a hand. "You guys are silly. I wasn't gone that long. C'mon, go outside." She opens the sliding glass door and gestures the dogs out. She shuts the door and rests her forehead against the cool glass. A slight headache still furrows her brow, but compared to the last eighteen hours, it is negligible and completely ignorable. She takes a breath and pushes herself away from the door and turns to face her empty living room.

Normal surrounds her like a welcome cocoon, but a sick feeling in her gut belies the comfort. In less than an hour, assuming Mark followed his usual pattern when working weekends, she would have to explain her absence of a day and a half to her husband. An absence with only one cell phone call, from a number he wouldn't have recognized. An absence where she left her car, her wallet, her phone, and her husband without a good bye or an excuse before he woke on a Saturday morning. _May God damn this whole fucking insane life to the depths of Dante's inferno!_ She sniffs, rubbing her nose. _And if it was God that did this to me, then he can go too. _A clicking interrupts her silent cursing and she turns to see the Jack Russell pawing the glass of the slider as a request to come back in. She sighs and opens the door mechanically. The dogs quickly calm as her mood dampens their enthusiasm and they hop up to sulk on the sofa. The trio of pouting dog faces does nothing to change Andy's temper and she goes to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, hoping a dose of caffeine would spark a believable excuse in her so far uninspired mind.

* * *

Mick felt sick. Literally nauseous. He turns from his door with a grimace as soon as he hears the hiss of the elevator's gears take Josef down towards the garage below his building. He stalks into the kitchen and dumps the doctored single-malt down the sink. _Carrying Coraline. Right. _He rinses the glass with the industrial sprayer and sets it in the drainer. He goes to his bookshelf and runs his index finger along the spines of the books without seeing them. _I killed her. My wife. Who killed me on our wedding day. What's there to carry?_ He smiles and pulls out the slim book under his hand. He turns and sinks down into the smooth embrace of the couch, putting his feet up on the cushions with complete disregard to the fine leather. He looks down as he runs his thumb across the cover of "The Master and Margarita." The slightly twisted perspective fit his mood perfectly. "…who are you, then?' 'I am part of that power which eternally wills evil and eternally works good.'" His lips curve into a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Exactly."

He opens the book and begins to read, allowing the familiar yet bizarre story flow over his consciousness. His phone startles him just as Berlioz loses his head. Mick blinks and shakes off the unpleasant image of the editor's head bouncing down the sidewalk. He reaches for his phone buzzing on the sofa table and eyes the caller ID. He frowns at the number and thumbs the answer icon and puts the phone to his ear.

"St. John?" The brisk female voice snaps without waiting for him to acknowledge her.

"Apparently." Mick leans back against the arm of the couch.

"Ever the comedian. I need your services." She pauses.

"All right." He closes his book and sets it on the table.

"Meet me at the corner of San Fernando and Loosmore in twenty minutes." The phone cuts off and Mick sighs.

He looks at the book on the sofa table, "I guess the conversation with the vodka drinking cat will just have to wait." He stands and slides his phone into his pocket, pulls a short leather jacket off it's hanger in the front closet and grabs his keys as he strides towards the door.

As he pulls his door shut behind him, he straightens his shoulders and takes a deep, completely unnecessary breath. He summons the veneer of casual professionalism that Josef had managed to crack a little during their conversation earlier that evening. _Four people died because of one unfortunate moment. So chalk another four lost lives to the ledger. It will be an interesting day when the bill comes due._

Goethe, _Faust. _


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the reviews, I really appreciate them. To answer the questions, my stuff is a series of story arcs...posted as one big one over at MLF but I separated them into short stories here and at MLL to help make them easier to read.

Thanks again.

* * *

The metallic rumble of the garage door snaps Andy's head towards the kitchen. A lump suddenly forms in her throat and she stands up from the loveseat where she had been staring blankly at her wedding ring. She jams it on her finger as the kitchen door opens. Mark freezes briefly on the threshold, then hurriedly drops his keys and a folder on the table and walks slowly towards Andy. He looks down at her for a moment then pulls her into a hard embrace.

"Where were you?" He whispers hoarsely into her hair.

"I had to help a friend." Andy clings to his chest.

"Who?" He loosens his arms and pulls back a little.

"I…you don't know…them." Andy temporizes with her face still pressed into his shirt.

"But, why? Why did you leave? You didn't even wake me, or take anything. Who would come to our house needing your help at…I don't know…six in the morning? On a Saturday? This doesn't make any sense." Mark reaches up and brushes Andy's hair from her face. "Look at me."

She looks up, brow furrowed with anxiety, "Mark…I…"

"What's going on? Why won't you tell me?" He frowns.

_Because I'm Lady Hawk. I'm Lady Hawk. Becau…How can I say it? _"I just can't. I-I can't. I was helping a friend a-and I…got a little banged up. Like I told you last night. So I stayed at her place to rest up a little and got home about an hour ago. That's all. I really can't tell you more. I promised." Andy grimaces at the first real lie. _The only one I promised anything to was you. Nine years ago. And I lied then, too. Big damn hero I am, hiding from the man I swore to honor for the rest of my life. God, when I finally eat it, he won't even know why I didn't come home. He won't know why he's alone. _

Mark searches her face, his eyes full of hurt. "I still don't understand. Why don't you trust me? I love you. I'd never do anything to hurt you. Nothing could change that. Nothing."

Andy looks down at her hands on his chest. "I love you, too. You have every right to know what I was doing, and I wish I could tell you, but I can't. I wouldn't do anything to hurt you either." _Except lying to you for years._ She grinds her teeth. She knew that she had walked straight into the trap she was standing in. By letting herself fall for Mark's slightly shy and gentle advances, she was entirely at fault. She knew that eventually something would happen to hurt him; that she would be responsible for darkening his beautiful blue eyes with pain. _I'm supposed to help people. I may not know anything else, but I do know that. So what the hell am I doing? I'm ripping the heart out of the man I love, but would die to save the life of a random stranger. This is crazier than the fact that I can turn into a bird __or kill a demon!_

Mark closes his eyes and sighs at Andy's prolonged silence. "I'm glad that you are okay, at least. I won't push for more for now." He turns away and picks up his work folder. "I've got to work on this data; we're going to try to finish the proposal tomorrow." He walks past her without making eye contact towards the little bedroom he uses as an office. He stops before stepping into the hallway, and without turning around, "If you ever feel like you can trust me, I'll be waiting." He moves out of sight, and Andy hears the door click shut behind him.

She looks up to the ceiling and bites her lip. She scrubs at her eyes with the heel of her hand; she didn't deserve the relief of tears. She walks dejectedly to the kitchen and checks the dishwasher. Of course he ran it. It was Saturday night. Dish night. _But I don't ever want to miss 'dish night' again. Or any other simple and wonderful little routine_ _that's as precious as…breathing._ She takes a shuddering breath. _I'm going to lose him if I keep lying, and I'm going to lose him if I tell him. _She slowly starts to unload the dishwasher while her mind flutters against the familiar bars of the cage she'd locked herself into almost a decade ago.

* * *

Mick guides the Mercedes to the curb of the corner that the Cleaner had specified. He sees the familiar white van and smiles slightly to himself. Looked like the usual "vamp kills someone and bails on the payment", since her team was busying themselves on the dark side of the street bordering the railroad tracks. He cuts the engine and unfolds his lanky frame from the car. He approaches the formidable woman dressed neck to foot in matte black leather. "New look?" He smirks.

"St. John. Glad you're here. Follow me." She pointedly ignores his sally.

Mick feels a hint of trepidation at her abruptness, he and the Cleaner enjoyed a remarkably… amicable relationship. He follows her, curiously eying her team members scattering dirt in the lank weeds as he passes.

"All right. This is…unpleasant." She steps fluidly out of Mick's way and offers him a large aluminum flashlight. He takes it, staring at her with disbelief. He'd never heard her utter even the tiniest suggestion of distaste for the victims or messes that she and her team dealt with nightly. Knowing that she'd been a vampire nearly as long as Josef and that she'd been responsible for organizing L.A.'s entire cleaner system decades before he'd even been born, her obvious discomfort with what he was about to see rocked him down to his boots.

He points the powerful beam down the slight ditch. He follows the path of crushed weeds with the light until he sees the outline of a small form. He blanches and looks sharply over his shoulder at the Cleaner and back to the body. He moves closer, careful to avoid the bent stems as he approaches. He crouches on his heels and takes a deep breath, the scents of blood, cold steel, musky sweat, vampire, and hate swirl into a picture of violent death. He moves the light around the scene slowly, taking in the footprints of several different people. He looks up at the Cleaner, raising an eyebrow in inquiry.

"The only one that wasn't already there is that one." She points at a smaller print at the edge of the path of crushed weeds. Mouse stumbled on the body. We got the call about an hour ago; the vamp didn't give her name and didn't stay to arrange payment. So she obviously wasn't able to direct us to the clean up. We all could smell the blood from the van, so we began searching the area. This is what we found.

"So what are your guys doing over there?" Mick points to the trio still scattering dirt about twenty feet away.

"There's a circle stomped down in the grass. There is a lot of blood in the spot. It's probably where this one was killed and they dumped him over here afterwards. Stupid. My team's disguising it, so hopefully when the neighbors walk their dogs tomorrow they'll not be able to tell why Fido is so interested." She looks down at her phone. "Damn. Another call. I'm going to have to send out Alyssa. She's going to enjoy this entirely too much."

Mick shakes his head; the Cleaner positively despised the young vamp that had presented herself to her no more than a year ago. She'd propositioned the Cleaner, practically blackmailing her to let her join the Cleaner's team. Mick didn't know what Alyssa knew, but assumed it was pretty big since she'd been accepted and led her own little crew on calls when the Cleaner was busy.

With the Cleaner's voice a staccato background, Mick turns back to the body. The cause of death was obvious, bite wounds on the neck and the scent of vampire combined to assure the blame lay square on one of the community. The finesse of the bite suggested a vampire fully in control, and the scent suggested at least a century of unlife. What didn't fit was the circle filled with the victims blood smeared and spattered messily, there shouldn't have been enough blood to both feed a vamp and make that mess. Mick continues examining the scene, slowly moving the light over the area. There were three sets of prints distinguishable as the dew settled on the unmarred weeds. One set was the vampire's, but the scent of human lay heavily on the area as well. _Why would there be evidence of two humans and an experienced vamp at the scene of a feeding? Why didn't the vamp consume at least the majority of the blood, rather than wasting it? Why didn't the vamp eat the watchers? This definitely is more than a simple case of non-payment. Or even of outrage at the choice of a meal. There's something very, very wrong about this._

"St. John. Got anything yet?" The Cleaner snaps her phone shut with a grimace of distaste.

"Well, there were two humans as well as the vampire responsible here tonight. From the scent traces and the overlap of the footprints they had to be here at the time of the…incident." He stands and moves back up to the curb. He turns back and points the flashlight back down the ditch, cocking his head at her with inquiry. "Isn't that what you noticed and why you called me here?"

She glances at Mick, and back to the body. "That was a big part of it. But I called mostly because we can't afford to allow a vampire to indulge this sort of preference. This monster must be stopped. "

Mick frowns with surprise at the venom in the Cleaner's voice and nods slightly. He looks back down in the ditch where the pitiless light illuminates the lifeless form…

Of a child.

Note: The reference to the Cleaner's age is by permission and courtesy of Silvanelf, "The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship"


	3. Chapter 3

Mick stares at his phone. His finger hovers over the 'call' icon while his internal debate runs its course. He sighs and clears the screen, instead dialing Josef.

"Mick. What's it been…a whole four hours since we last talked? I don't know if I'll be able to stand being left alone that long again." Josef's voice is perfect deadpan.

Mick runs his tongue over sharpening canines, "Josef, I need to let you know about a new case. It's serious. The Cleaner called me. Can I stop by?"

Brief silence, then, "Yeah. Just get here before dawn."

"On my way." Mick thumbs the phone off and tosses it on the seat next to him. He turns the key and the old Mercedes growls as the motor grumbles awake and he flips the lights on as he backs it into a driveway. Something glints in the cut-away of the curb across the street. Mick frowns and puts the car in park. He climbs out without cutting the lights or the engine and jogs the few steps to the opposite curb and bends down. A small knife lay nearly hidden behind a crushed Wendy's cup. He reaches out and gingerly brushes the hilt of the dagger with the barest tips of his fingers. Nothing. _Not silver._ He picks it up; it's no longer than his hand.

"Hey, wait!" Mick calls towards the last of the Cleaner's crew who were shutting the back doors of the van. It suddenly occurred to him that he had no idea what to call the Cleaner to get her attention directly. It had never come up before. _What the hell is her name? And why haven't I ever wondered that before? _

The two women closing up the van turn to look at him, identical frowns wrinkling their foreheads. The taller one nods and glides around to the driver's door. Mick can't help but stare at how she moves, even for a vampire, the controlled power and grace in her walk was startling. The petite one crosses her arms with a smirk. "Down boy. She'll take you out."

Mick blinks and shakes his head, "What?"

The smirk turns into a grin, "Sam has forgotten more about martial arts than you'll know if you study it for the rest of eternity."

Before Mick can respond, the Cleaner appears as if conjured. "What is it, St. John?"

Mick shakes his head again as he holds up the knife, and tries to get his mind back where it belongs. "I found this, just now, as I was pulling out. It was in the gutter," he points behind him where the lights of the Mercedes still illuminate the trash filled curb and the weedy rail easement.

"Who was supposed to search that area, Mouse?" The Cleaner snaps.

"Ashton." The diminutive woman winces slightly as she says the name.

"Get him." The Cleaner's voice is level. Mouse bites her lip and darts around the passenger side of the van.

The Cleaner puts out her hand, Mick gives her the small knife. "Do you think this is related?" Mick lifts an eyebrow, "Or just a random piece of trash?"

She examines the knife closely. "It seems unlikely that someone would simply drop this…And it's not exactly a fit for this neighborhood for someone out for a jog to be carrying an athæme."

Mick frowns, as Ashton steps around the corner of the van. "A what?"

The Cleaner glances towards her errant team member. "You missed something." She holds up the knife.

Ashton shrugs. "Sorry."

"Don't let it happen again." The Cleaner glances towards Mick and back to Ashton. "You knew a few practicing witches way back, didn't you?"

Ashton nods sharply.

"What do you make of this?" She flips the knife in her hand and offers the hilt to him.

Ashton makes no move to touch it, "It isn't real."

Mick looks back and forth between the two, "What are you talking about? What's an 'athæme'?"

"It's a ritual dagger. Some witches use them as a part of their spell casting. This one isn't from any legitimate version of witchcraft or even modern Wiccan, though. It's some kind of Satanic thing. The symbols on it are all twisted, no witch would use this. It was probably bought off the internet from some fake occult site." Ashton folds his arms as he glares at the knife.

"I guess that opens it back up whether or not it has anything to do with what happened here, doesn't it? If it isn't real, then some kid going through a rebellious stage might have simply dropped it." Mick puts his hand out and the Cleaner returns the knife to him.

"You're going to see Josef about this, right?" She cocks her head slightly with the inquiry.

"Yeah." Mick frowns at her, "Why?"

"Show that to him. See what he thinks." The Cleaner turns away, and begins walking towards her car.

"All right." Mick spins on his heel and heads towards the idling Mercedes.

"And Mick," He looks over his shoulder at her; her hand is on the door of a black nineteen fifty-seven Thunderbird, "Tell him to call me."

Mick offers her his best raised eyebrow, "About?"

"He knows." She smiles as she pulls the car door open.

* * *

"Just fix it, Charid. Close the account; I really don't care how. No. Fix it. The account will be gone by this time tomorrow, or I will personally dine on your liver. Good." Josef nods at his assistant to let Mick in, "Tomorrow, Charid." He drops his phone onto its cradle on the desk as Mick smiles his way past the assistant and strides into the office.

"Mick…"

"Josef…"

They both pause, then Josef gestures to Mick, "Well?"

Mick reaches into his coat pocket and drops a small knife onto the desk. It skitters across the mahogany and stops, pointing directly at Josef's heart.

Josef glances down at the knife and back up to Mick. "This is nice. Shiny. Some reason you're throwing knives at me?"

"The Cleaner told me to ask you about it." Mick folds his arms across his chest. "And you're supposed to call her."

Josef feels his mouth sagging open, "Ad…ah…The Cleaner told you to tell me to call her?" Josef grimaces at his near slip, "She tell you why?"

Mick's face falls briefly, then he smiles. "She said you'd know."

_Is it already that time? _ Josef inhales sharply, "All right. What's with the knife?"

"I found it near where a vampire drained a young boy in the presence of two humans." Mick growls.

"_What?"_ Josef stands so quickly his chair tumbles over. "Is this what the Cleaner called you about?"

"Yeah. A female vamp called in a cleanup but bailed. They found a little boy drained, three sets of footprints all over the area, and a bunch of blood a few feet from the body. The vamp is at least a century old, and the two extra sets of footprints were human. Other than the knife, that's all I have." Mick closes his eyes and Josef can see him grind his teeth. "The Cleaner wants me to find the vampire and stop her before she…" He opens his eyes and they flicker pale and back to hazel.

"Absolutely." Josef whispers, "The community can't afford something like this." He reaches for the knife and picks it up. Frowning at the marks all over the hilt and blade, he glances up at Mick. "Did Ashton look at this?"

"Yeah. He said that it wasn't real. That it was Satanic rather than…what'd he say? Wiccan? He mentioned witches." Mick leans on the desk, "Does that sound right?"

"Wicca is the modern version, anyway. Sort of. So. If Ashton says it isn't real, then why'd the Cleaner ask you to have me look at it?" Josef wonders aloud, thinking furiously as he slowly turns the blade over to examine the runes and symbols more closely. Something about the knife was familiar, but he couldn't quite identify what.

"What would a Satanic…or Wiccan or whatever the hell that thing is, knife have anything to do with a vampire draining a little kid anyway? It's more likely that the stupid thing was dropped by some Goth teenager who bought it from Spencer's to spite her suburban parents. After all, if it were important, wouldn't whoever owned it have noticed that it was gone?" Mick turns his back to Josef and rubs his eyes.

Josef frowns at Mick's back. "You may be right. I don't know, though. It's definitely an odd coincidence."

"Yeah. A coincidence is my only lead. Wonderful." Mick sighs and turns back to Josef. "I'm going to Logan to have him look up the phone number that called the cleaner. I'm sure it's some pre-paid thing that's already in the bottom of a trash can, but it's my only other option. Do you have anyone that would be able to do any work with the knife? Maybe research the symbols or get an age on the thing or something?"

Josef puts the knife on his desk and bends over to right his chair. Inspecting it for damage, he offers Mick a patronizing smile. "You're asking the vampire that owns a genuine Renoir if he has someone that can verify the age and authenticity of a rune-covered athæme? C'mon, Mick." Josef presses a button on his phone, "Anna? Send Jaysen up to my office. Immediately." He straightens, "And I can have my telephone specialist look up that number for you, so you don't have to visit the sloth."

"Josef!" Mick tries to suppress a laugh with indignation. "It would obviously make things easier if I didn't have to go across town. Here."

Josef accepts the Cleaner's card with the number handwritten on the back. He reaches for his phone again, "Anna. One more thing. Have Ryder look up this number: 562-555-6738."

A muffled tap heralds the arrival of Josef's antiquities specialist. "Come in, Jaysen."

A tall, angular blonde apparently in his mid-forties enters the office. "You needed to see me, sir?"

"I have a witch's athæme that I need verification on." Josef holds the small dagger up for Jaysen, offering him the hilt.

Jaysen takes the knife and inspects it. His forehead wrinkles and he glances up to Josef. "Where did you get this?"

Mick offers, "I found it. It may be associated with a…crime scene."

"Huh." Jaysen goes back to examining the dagger.

Josef looks at Mick, who shrugs. The silence stretches into minutes. Finally Josef clears his throat.

Jaysen jumps, "Sorry, sir. This is very interesting. It's at least two hundred fifty years old. Originally it was a protective tool. The changes to the symbols and runes are relatively recent. Now this thing would be a magnet for demonic energy. If you believed in that sort of thing."

"Wonderful." Josef runs his hand through his hair. "Someone wants to play with demons in L.A. This is two thousand seven for goodness sake. Verdammnt doc mal!"

Mick grins at him. "According to Jaysen, that's what whoever owned the thing wants to do."

Josef growls back at him wordlessly. He obviously swore too often around Mick. "Is there anything else you can get from that thing, Jaysen?"

"There are some odd runes here, at the base of the blade." He points at two symbols. "They mean, loosely, 'I guard'. They're the only things not changed on the entire knife."

Josef freezes and slowly turns his head to look at Mick. Mick's mouth had fallen open. Josef barely suppresses a snarl, "Thank you Jaysen. I believe that's all I need tonight."

Jaysen nods sharply and holds the knife out to Josef. Josef takes it and forces a smile. From Jaysen's face, he's sure it's not coming across as pleasant. "Thank you. I appreciate your time and expertise this evening." Jaysen backs away, face taut. He jerks his chin, and fumbles with the door handle before successfully opening it and nearly running out of the office.

"So. Who do we know that might have a knife that says, 'I guard' on it, I wonder?" Josef asks silkily.

"Come on, Josef. It was a vampire! I smelled her. The two humans weren't even female." Mick spreads his hands, palms towards Josef. "Why would you even think that? Damn it!" He turns his back to him, fists clenched in obvious frustration.

"Look. I really don't care that you're still feeling hurt that she didn't come back after her little 'emergency' that convinced you to let her go. I don't even care that you blame me for pissing her off. She's dangerous, Mick." Josef looks down at the dagger and spins it in his fingers so that it glints in the light of the table lamp on the desk.

"You're dangerous, I'm dangerous. Half of the people on the freeways are fucking terrifying! So what? She has nothing to do with this case, and you will keep your mouth off of her." Mick turns and his face is perfectly controlled. "Now. We know that this knife-thing is over two hundred years old. It was once owned by a 'good' witch that either went bad or it was changed by someone else. We also know that whoever defiled the knife kept runes that said, 'I guard'. What good is this information, exactly?"

"Well. If we are willing to accept the fact that someone out there still believes in demons, we can add that a ritual dagger, covered in demonic symbols was found at the site of a suspicious feeding by a fairly old vampire. That sounds like a pretty good place to start digging." Josef holds the knife out to Mick.

"I don't get it." Mick reaches for the dagger.

"I don't know any vampires that are, or were, witches. So that narrows the field to someone out of town. I'm just throwing ideas out there, Mick." Josef folds his arms, "It's your case."

"Right. Well, thanks for your help." Mick takes a step towards the door.

The phone on the desk rings, Josef reaches for it and answers. "What's that? Well, thanks anyway. Get that to me as soon as you have it." He looks up at Mick as he drops the handset onto its cradle. "That was Ryder, the phone was prepaid."

"Damn. Well, I figured." Mick continues to the door.

"With a credit card." Josef smiles as Mick freezes and turns towards him slowly. "Ryder's working on the name as we speak."

Mick grins and tosses the knife into the air. It glints brightly as it flips and Josef gasps. A memory crashes into him. _She runs the razor edge of the small dagger across his wrist. He pulls against the heavy chains binding him; the silver wire wrapped around them burns his already raw skin. He tries to struggle but it only digs the wire farther into his wounds. He snarls at the creature torturing him and she laughs. She cuts him again and holds a clear jar under the wound, his blood trickles into it until the wound heals and she keeps cutting until it is filled. She lids the jar, and then casually opens the shutters over the badly glazed window under which he's shackled. It faces east and the first of the sun's rays break over the horizon. "Now I have what I need to continue my work for eternity." She smiles widely and lays a key at his feet, just out of reach. "For your generosity, there's a chance for a way out." She blurs and then spreads glossy black wings. She disappears in a breath, and Josef begins to frantically strain against his restraints as the morning sun begins to burn._

"Josef!"

He feels hands shaking him, and gasps. He looks up at Mick, whose face is taut with anxiety. "I know who owns that knife."

"What?" Mick gasps.

"In fact, she cut me with it. Just over two hundred years ago. Now I know why." Josef feels his fangs descend with anger and anticipation for revenge.

"Who cut you? Josef, what are you talking about?" Mick shakes him again.

"The second guardian I had the pleasure to encounter, of course." Josef smiles at Mick's expression. "She used my blood to become a vampire."

Mick stares at him for several minutes. "Are you telling me that there's a vampire guardian out there? Eating kids? In front of humans? Carrying a Satanic knife?"

"Well, it looks like she dropped that." Josef feels his mouth stretch into a toothy smile.

Mick begins to pace. "Are you sure?"

"Very." Josef follows him with his eyes.

"If that's the case, and in my mind, at least, that is a very big 'if', how in hell are we going to stop her?" Mick rubs the back of his neck.

"I think you need to call your little friend." Josef leans against his desk.

Mick stops pacing, his back to Josef. He turns to him, very slowly. "What?" His tone is quiet, velvet over razor-edged steel.

"You heard me. And you know I'm right." Josef lifts his chin, ignoring the icy flicker in Mick's eyes.

"Right now, I'm sorely tempted to walk out of this office and let whatever is going to happen with this mess sort its own fucking self out." Mick's jaw works, "But that would put innocent lives at risk and I won't do that. She won't do that. You bastard." He turns his back to Josef again, and tips his head back to look up. "I assume you can get her telephone number?"

"Already had Ryder look it up. Not for this, but it seemed prudent at the time." Josef walks around his desk and opens a drawer. He pulls a slip of paper out with just a number and offers it to Mick.

Mick turns and takes the number. He looks at it a long time, then pulls his phone out of his pocket. He glances at Josef, then begins dialing.

* * *

_I guess I'll join the rest who beg for folks to tell me what they think..._


	4. Chapter 4

It had been four days since she'd come home. Four days that were most assuredly going to count for time in purgatory. Mark quietly kept his promise not to ask her about disappearing. But that didn't stop Andy from catching him staring at her with frustration and pain writ so clearly across his features that she had no need of her ability to hear thoughts to know that he was walking the fine line of simply walking out.

Mark had closed himself into his office hours ago; Andy gave up on him coming to bed and curled up with her head buried under her pillow. She was sure that she was going to spend another night staring at the back of her eyelids, but exhaustion finally overtakes her.

"_Are you hurt?" His voice shaking._

"_No. I'm okay." Her stomach clenching._

"_Thank God. I was so worried. Where are you?" He sounds like he hasn't breathed in hours._

"_I'm with a…friend. I'm so sorry I didn't call earlier, but…" Her thought continues, unspoken, _I thought I'd be able to get back before I had to explain anything to you…like I've done for all these years…

"_But what? Andy, where are you? What happened? You were just gone…vanished…when I got up. I've been so scared all day. I called everyone in your cell phone, no one had seen you. I was about to call the police…" His voice cracks as the fear comes tumbling out._

"_God Mark, I am so sorry. If I had any idea how today would turn out, I would have woken you before I left." _ And taken my car and cell phone…what the hell am I going to tell everyone? _Andy's nausea and headache worsen at the complication._

"_How did you leave? Who are you with? Why would they come get you so early? I didn't even hear the phone. Why wouldn't you wake me just to say good bye? You always do." His tone is quickly changing from panic to accusation._

I can't do this! "_Mark. Please. I know I scared you, and I don't think you can understand how badly that makes me feel…" _Understatement of the year. "…_but a friend needed me. It was something of an emergency, so I just left. I really did think I'd be back before you got a chance to worry," _Read, 'notice,' "_Or I would have woken you. I'm sorry!" The exhaustion and pain begins to overwhelm her._

"_What's wrong, Andy? Why won't you just tell me what's going on?" Back to panic._

Because I'm Lady Hawk. "_I'm tired, Mark. This turned out to be a lot more complicated than I thought it would be when I left this morning. I promise that I'm okay and will be home sometime tomorrow." Her voice sounds hollow, even to her._

"_Don't you dare hang up! What's going on?" Panic is an inadequate adjective._

"_Mark. I'm not hanging up. I am okay. I will be okay. I will be home tomorrow. I have a raging headache because I was stupid," _And that's not stretching the truth even a little bit, "_And got myself a little scuffed helping my friend out. I know I'm not making a whole lot of sense right now, but I…" _

The phone rings. Its shrill electronic mimicry of a bell startles Andy, _But I already called you. Why are you calling me back so soon?_ Another ring pulls her the rest of the way to consciousness and she lifts her head heavily, waiting for the answering machine.

"You have reached 858-555-9159, please leave a message. Beep." A pause, then, "I…this message is for Andy. It's Mick. If this is the right number, please ca…"

Falling over herself, Andy dives off the bed and grabs the phone off its cradle. Hands shaking so violently that it takes her four tries to actually hit the 'answer' button and stop Mick's voice on speaker, she stares at the handset a moment before putting it to her ear. "How did you get this number?" She growls as quietly as the furious panic clawing at her throat allows. "I cleared the call history from Beth's phone."

"What? Beth?" Mick's voice roughens, "Why would Beth…? What's wrong? Why are you so upset?"

Andy gapes at the phone, "Why am I upset? Are you bloody kidding me? You have to ask that? For Christ sake, you know what I am. You obviously know my phone number. Do you have any idea what kind of position this puts me in?" The bedroom light flicks on. She stops, her breath freezing in her chest. She turns slowly, Mick's voice rapidly becoming more frantic at her silence. "Stop. I'll call you back." She pushes the 'End Call' button and the phone drops to the carpet from her numb fingers.

Mark stands in the doorway of the bedroom, mouth set in an angry frown. "Who was that?"

Andy closes her eyes slowly, "That was one of the people I was helping Saturday."

"Really? I thought you were helping 'a friend.' I'm somewhat curious as to why you would be this upset with a 'friend' calling you." His tone is an equal mix of anger and frustration.

Andy opens her eyes, gut twisting at his voice. _Not like this! I can not tell him like this!_

"What were you doing Saturday? You have exactly one chance to explain what that guy knows about you that made you use that tone of voice with him." Mark glances at the clock on the dresser behind Andy, "And why in hell these people seem to have to call you before dawn?"

Andy looks over her shoulder; the clock reads 4:47 am. _It's over. _"Follow me." She bends down to pick up the phone and walks past him. He pulls out of her way as she ducks through the doorway and stares at her as she stalks down the hallway and turns into the living room. Her throat closes to see a blanket rumpled on the couch. _Face it. It's _been _over._ She drops the phone onto the coffee table and stands, facing the 'Pilatus Bahn' poster on the wall over the loveseat. She feels Mark enter the room, "Please, sit down."

Silence behind her. _Fine. Be stubborn. You are going to wish you had sat down._, "I honestly haven't been lying to you. I did go and help some people this Saturday. I did get a bit beat up doing it, which is why I couldn't get home before you could worry about me. Obviously, there's more to it. It's just…there's a whole lot more than you could possibly imagine." She stops, trying to organize the chaotic mess of fear, responsibility, and soul crushing loneliness threatening to stop her heart.

"What could you possibly have been doing that's so hard for you to tell me?" Mark's voice is barely more than a whisper.

A bark of laughter is torn from her throat before she can stop it. Tears follow, "Oh God. I am so sorry."

Mark spins her around by the shoulders, "For what? Just tell me, damn it!"

She looks up at his face; the shadows of the dimly lit room accentuate his half-fearful, half-angry expression. She purposefully invokes the shape-shift as slowly as possible. She watches his expression change to shock before she even blurs. _These damn eyes will fuck anyone up._

He lets go of her shoulders and staggers backwards until he hits the edge of the coffee table. "Wh…what? Wh…what are…? Oh, dear God…"

"I'm Lady Hawk." _Isn't the truth supposed to make you feel better?_ Andy stares at Mark.

He begins to shake. "A…are you still Andy?"

That wasn't what she expected, "Yeah."

"How long…?" His voice cracks.

"Since before you met me." Andy hates herself for the unfair sharpness in her tone.

Silence as he stares. She folds her arms. Her wings are clamped as tightly to her back as she could, feathers slicked flat with the sick fear making her head spin. _I am so sorry! So fucking sorry for dragging you into this! For putting you in danger, for taking your love and mocking it with my secrets. And now, for trying to make you hate me so I can leave rather than watch you get hurt. What kind of monster does that? What measure do you use when the cowardice gets that deep? _

The phone rings. Both Andy and Mark jump and stare at it. She reaches for the offending thing with a growl, and Mark winces away from her, eyes wide.

She swallows the surge of despair at his fear and swiftly changes her mind on what she was about to do. She presses the 'Answer' button. "Yes."

Silence. "Andy?"

"Yes."

"Are you okay?" Mick's voice sounds small.

"No."

"What's wrong?"

"More than I have time to explain. What do you want?" Andy grinds her teeth.

"I need your help with a case."

"Of course you do. How did you get this number?"

"Josef."

"Of course. The one that hates me. Awesome."

"Andy?"

"I'll come. Where are you?"

"At Josef's office."

"Then I'll need you to 'call' me."

"What?"

"With your head. Just think of me, that you want me to come. Loudly."

"Loudly?"

"Just 'yell' with your head. Okay?" She hangs up. Looks over to Mark.

"Who?" He asks quietly.

"That was Mick. I met him a few weeks ago. Helping." She winces at the reference, "Taver didn't buck me off."

"Oh." He frowns, "Then what?"

"I was shot." _Why do you have to be such a bitch to him?_ She drops the phone on the coffee table.

"You…Oh God. This can't be real." He collapses, finally, on the couch.

"I'm sorry. I'm going to leave. I have only one thing that I ask from you." Andy feels strangely hollow.

"No! Don't go!" Mark stands.

Andy finally hears Mick, _Andy?_

_Coming,_ She smiles sadly at Mark, "I need to. I can't stay..." _And watch you leave me. "_Just. Please don't…tell anyone. I…you could get really hurt. There are people out there that want to find me. Now that you know…they could hurt you. I…I've hurt you enough. I couldn't bear it if…I'm so sorry. I love you."

She backs up and spreads her wings. Mark blanches. She reaches for Mick's thoughts and a picture of Josef's office fills her mind. As the blackness swirls over her vision, the temptation of allowing it to swallow her forever nearly overwhelms her. But a stubborn spark of anger holds back the darkness just long enough for her to land on the luxurious coffee-brown rug of Josef's office.

She finds herself directly between the two vampires.

"Andy!" Mick yelps, surprise writ large on his face. She snarls and punches him in the jaw with every ounce of strength she can muster. The unexpected attack knocks him back and he trips over a chair and falls to the floor.

"That's for being stupid enough to call me at quarter to five in the morning." She hisses.

Josef laughs, "Mick, man, are you okay?" He leans forward towards Mick, most of his weight on his hands on the desk.

Andy spins around and uses the momentum to plant her fist in the middle of his face. "What the fuck?" Josef snarls in surprised rage and his eyes flood icy blue-white. "You broke my nose, bitch!" He presses his palms to his face and blood runs between his fingers.

"That's for giving him my phone number. To my house. Where my _husband_ lives. Who didn't know what I was until a minute ago. And now, who is in terrible danger because at least two vampires know what I am and pretty much everything else about me." She glares at him, trembling head to foot with anger.

Mick picks himself up from the floor gingerly. "You're married?"

"I was." Andy growls, still watching Josef.

"I didn't know. Was it my call that…am I why you had to tell him?" His voice is soft.

"Indirectly." She continues to eye the obviously livid Josef.

"I'm sorry." Barely audible.

She turns from Josef. Mick's face is so full of empathy, she feels her anger dissolve into racking sobs.

"Shh…It's okay. I understand." Mick reaches for her, tentatively at first, then wraps his arms around her shaking shoulders and pulls her to his chest.

The comforting gesture unleashes the rest of Andy's pent up emotion and she leans against him as the pain washes over her.

Mick just holds her gently as she cries.


	5. Chapter 5

Soon, Andy quiets. Mick feels her stiffen slightly and he drops his arms. He steps back from the guardian as she rubs her eyes with the heel of her right hand. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I'll be what I have to be." She looks up, tucking stray strands of hair behind her ears and wincing as she moves her left hand.

Mick reaches out and gently grabs her wrist. He rolls her knuckles into the light, the bruises are already a dark purple. "That's nasty." He moves her fingers, frowning. "At least it looks like nothing's broken."

"My bones don't break. Weird perk from the unicorn thing." She tries to tug her hand back, but Mick doesn't let go.

Mick looks up from her hand with surprise, "Really?"

"Really. Can I have my hand back? Might need it from the look on Josef's face." She raises an eyebrow towards Josef.

Josef looks away from them with a silent snarl and pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, "What's with the playing medic and the sympathy? She broke my nose!" Josef dabs at his face with it.

Mick glances at him, lips twitching. "And it's better already."

Andy glares at Josef, "Maybe I should break it again."

"Try it." He glares back.

Mick lets go of Andy, and steps between the two, "Knock it off. Do we really need to start this again? Josef, you told me to call her. Be nice."

"She broke my nose!" Josef waves the bloody hankie at Mick.

"You had someone find my phone number! I'd think the vampire that had been chased by a mob would understand the concept of secrecy." Andy clenches her hands into fists, letting the left one go with a hiss.

"You got married without telling the guy. You had to know he'd find out someday." Josef glowers at her, folding his arms across his chest.

The color drains from Andy's face, Mick reaches for her and she turns sharply from both of them. Mick glares at Josef. _Damn it! Not helping!_ "Josef."

"It's okay. He's right. I just want to be mad at someone else, because it's easier than admitting my own cowardice." Andy turns back to them, expression and voice suddenly calm. "What is the case you need help with?"

Mick frowns. _That's not good._ He remembers some of the guys in his unit during the war. They'd had the same kind of off switch. Until they went mad and ran right up the German's guns. "Andy. We can wait and do this tonight. It's almost dawn, and it's been a long night."

"So why'd you call me?" Her voice trembles very slightly, "Why didn't you wait until dusk, then?"

Mick can almost hear the unspoken accusation, "_So I wouldn't have had to lose everything."_ He winces, "I didn't really think about it. I'm sorry."

"I know." She closes her eyes for a breath and then offers him a slight smile, "I'm here now, though. I really don't want to go back home right now, so I might as well hear what you need."

"Not in my office, you don't." Josef stalks around the desk. Andy pivots to face him. Mick rubs the bridge of his nose at the sudden tension crackling in the air between the two of them. "I am leaving to go home to some breakfast and then my freezer. I'll have Ryder send the name on the credit card to you as soon as he gets it. He bends over and retrieves the athæme from where Mick had dropped it when Andy knocked him into the chair. He offers it, hilt first, to Mick. "Take the knife, take the guardian, and get out of my office." He looks Andy up and down, "She doesn't go with the décor, anyway."

Andy sticks her chin out at him. "Go to hell."

Mick stifles a grin. Andy's wearing a pair of navy sweat pants and a faded green San Francisco t-shirt. Her feet are bare and her hair straggles out of a braid.

"I'd love to, but the immortality is getting in the way." Josef points with fake gallantry at the door.

Andy stalks towards the door, wings clamped stiffly to her back. She looks over her shoulder, "Well?"

"Make sure Ryder gets me that name, Josef." Mick follows Andy out of the office and down the hallway to the elevator. Mick pushes the down button, and leans against the wall. A moment passes in silence then the door of the lift opens, it is nearly full. A few of the vampires leer a little at Andy. Mick pushes away from the wall with a growl.

Andy glances at him and flashes him a grin. "C'mon, Mick, there's plenty of room." She steps into the elevator and turns around to face him.

Mick's growl fades into an amused smirk as the occupants of the car press themselves away from her, faces twisting into various expressions of shock and fear. He shakes his head as he joins her, turning his back on the gaping vampires. He looks over to a skinny, dark-haired and olive-complected vamp by the panel of buttons. "Ground floor, please." The vampire swallows, adams apple bobbing frantically and his hand darts out and stabs the 'Lobby' button. Mick looks down at the guardian, whose face is schooled into a pleasantly neutral expression. He sighs and folds his arms as the doors slide closed.

They step out of the elevator into the lobby of Josef's office building. A wave of silence radiates from them like ripples on a still pond after a pebble is tossed in. Mick strides across the wide terrazzo floor next to Andy, who appears to completely ignore the frozen stares of the shocked occupants of the room. She walks, bare footed, head high; grey-plumaged wings folded loosely across her back. Even Josef's burly guards gape at the two of them as they pass, apparently willing to risk Josef's wrath rather than draw Andy's attention to themselves. Mick finds himself biting his tongue hard enough to draw blood at the spectacle. Josef was going to have a lot of explaining to do…

* * *

As they step outside, Andy lets out the breath she's been holding since she and Mick stepped out of the elevator. Allowing anyone to see her as Lady Hawk, let alone a small crowd of _vampires_, is so incredibly, impossibly, insanely stupid that she nearly staggers with relief as the door _whuffs_ closed behind them. _But damn, that was satisfying. _

Mick steadies her with his hand on her elbow, the gesture an obviously automatic throwback from his youth. "What's wrong?" His forehead wrinkles with concern.

"Nothing." Andy shifts her wings away with a thought.

Mick lifts an eyebrow, "So…Why'd you wait until now to do that?"

Andy just smiles up at him, "Where's your car?"

Mick stares at her a moment. "Promise me that the next time you see Josef, you'll try not to kill him, okay?"

"That will be entirely up to him." She tucks a lock of hair back behind her ear.

"Just try, okay?" Mick sighs, "Car's over here." He steps off the curb.

Andy hesitates, the rough asphalt giving her pause for her bare feet.

Mick looks over his shoulder, "You com…? Oh. Sorry." He turns back and scoops her up.

"Meep!" She squeaks involuntarily, surprised. "You don't…"

"It's faster than bringing the car over here." He grins toothily down at her, "And the sun's gonna be up before we get home as it is." His long strides carry her swiftly to the Mercedes. He stops by the passenger side door, and lets go of her knees to fish his keys from his hip pocket. He maintains his grip around her ribs, so she reaches an arm up and hooks it around his neck. He lifts an eyebrow at her.

"Can't breathe."

"Oh, sorry." He shrugs his grip down from her ribs to her waist, like she was an awkward sack of groceries, and she clings to his shoulder.

"You could put me down." Andy squirms slightly.

"It would hurt your feet." Mick fumbles, one-handed, with the key ring.

"And my pride…?" She frowns at his profile.

"That doesn't show." He smirks.

"Are all vampires assholes?" Andy grimaces.

"Pretty much." Mick finally thumbs the right key out, and jams it into the lock. He opens the door and bends over at the waist to set her into the car.

She settles onto the cream leather seat and he closes the door. He walks around the front of the car and collapses into the driver's seat with a groan. He puts the key into the ignition and the Mercedes begins purring like a well-fed tiger. He backs it out of the parking spot and steers towards the exit. The sky is beginning to lighten into pre-dawn as they pull out onto the street. Traffic is just beginning to stir as they make their way towards Mick's apartment.

Andy drops her head against the seat back as Mick guides the car around several blocks of high rise office buildings.

"Andy?"

Mick's voice is subdued and she turns her head to look at him. "Yeah?"

"When I called…You mentioned something about Beth." He glances at her briefly, "About clearing her call history. What was that about?"

Andy frowns at his profile, little red flags appearing in her head. "Have you seen her since…you had to tell her?"

"Yeah. Ended up working a case with her." He smiles.

"Really? Huh." Andy blinks in surprise, "That's brave. Of both of you."

Mick's smile turns a little rueful, "Yeah, well. She's pretty brave."

_Right._ "How'd the case work out?" Andy watches Mick's face closely.

"Well. As Josef would say, 'Bad guy caught, day saved.'" His mouth puckers as if he just tasted lemon.

"So…what's that mean, really?" Andy asks.

"Four people dead, one 'cause I shoved him into the biohazard incinerator at the hospital." Mick says, flatly.

"And Beth?" Andy whispers.

"Gone when I came out of the biohazard room. She took a cab home. I checked." His voice wavers.

"Oh." They continue in silence for a few more blocks.

"So. Beth's phone?" Mick looks at her again.

"I take it she didn't say anything about me ending up at her place, then?" Andy frowns slightly. _Please let her have said _something.

"What? No. When did you see her?" Mick focuses on a bit of traffic ahead of them.

_Crap. Don't freak out. Are you kidding yourself? Of course he's going to freak out._ "Right after I left your place." She winces, waiting for him to put it together.

Mick turns his head and stares at her. "But…you said you had to go help someone…?"

"Car!" Andy reaches for her seatbelt.

Mick snaps his eyes back on the road and brakes just in time to avoid rear ending the pickup in front of them.

Andy buckles the seatbelt. "I did. Beth."

Mick gapes at her. A car behind them honks. Twice.

"Um. Driving?" Andy prompts.

Mick pushes the accelerator. "Explain. Now."

Andy swallows at his suddenly deadly serious tone. "First. She's okay. You've seen her since I have, so you know everything turned out fine."

"Turned out fine?" Silk over steel.

_Not good pissing off the vampire…_ "She was attacked in the morgue parking structure. She called me. I killed the guy, but got hurt. She took me back to her apartment, we talked a bit. I couldn't make it home so I borrowed her phone to call my husband." Andy says it in a rush. _And you really do not need __to know more. The demon thing is just not necessary information for the overprotective vampire…_

"That's all?" Mick glances at her.

"Isn't it enough?" _Please let it be enough…_ She looks straight ahead, avoiding eye contact.

"Huh. For now, I guess. What'd you talk about?" He turns into the parking garage below his building.

"What I am…What you are. Like you said, she's pretty brave." Andy unbuckles her belt as Mick turns off the Mercedes.

"That she is. It also explains why she was so…okay…with me." He pauses with his hand on the door. "Thanks."

"For?" Andy frowns.

"Saving her. Too. Seems I'm getting ever deeper in your debt." He stands and walks around the car.

Andy looks up at him, "There's no debt here."

Mick smiles as he holds out his hand to her. "How can you say that?"

Andy takes it, "Because it's true."

He picks her up and hips the Mercedes' door shut.

"Why?" He wrinkles his forehead at her and smiles.

"You're my friend." She cocks her head at him.

"And that's what friends do, huh?" He heads towards the elevator.

"Yep." She reaches down and pushes the 'Penthouse' button.

"I wish it were that simple." He sighs.

"Why can't it be?" Andy frowns.

His mouth opens, but he stops. He looks at her for a moment, quizzically. "Maybe it can be." The bell dings and he steps on. "Maybe it can."

* * *

_And I am INCREDIBLY sorry for the add/delete/re-add chapters, guys, I forgot the formatting wouldn't put in the point of view breaks and had to fix it...Maybe you could overlook my oops and be kind? Tell me how you like the presents? I gave you lots of chapters..._


	6. Chapter 6

"Thanks, Bobby. That's about everything, I guess." Andy's voice is leaden as Mick pauses on the landing. "I will. You, too. Yeah. Give 'em my best. I know, Bobby. I know. Bye." Mick hears a click as she hangs up, and he trots the rest of the way down the stairs.

Andy looks up and offers him a nod and tired smile, "Morning…um…evening. Whatever. Hi."

A couple of small boxes lay open on the floor and she is dressed in dark jeans and a dark teal polo shirt. Mick raises an eyebrow at her.

She chuckles, and points to her temple. "Somewhere along the line, I memorized my credit card number. Stores deliver nowadays."

"Ah." Mick turns away and heads to the kitchen. He slides the blood fridge's panel open and pulls out a glass bottle. _A negative tonight._ He pours a glass, setting it on the kitchen island and returns the bottle to the refrigerator. He reaches for the glass and walks back to the office.

Andy's back typing at his computer with a frown. She glances up at him, "Do you have anything silk? Real silk, nothing else?"

"Um…I don't know for sure. Why?" Mick sits on the edge of the desk and cranes his neck to look at the screen.

"We need to wrap this thing in silk or try to figure out a way to put salt around all those pretty skylights." She points at the ceiling with a grin.

"Salt? Skylights? Silk? What are you talking about?" Mick looks up at the twilight shining through the penthouse's ceiling.

"Salt and silk stop…stuff. Demons, spirits, certain kinds of energy." She reaches for the computer keyboard and types a few strokes.

Mick stares at her, his mouth falling open slowly. _Demons? What the…?_ "Are you kidding?"

Andy's expression answers him.

Mick stands and begins pacing. "That thing can really call a _demon?_"

"Mhm. And just about every other kind of supernatural filth that exists. At least that's what Bobby thinks, and from the way it puts the hair up on the back of my neck, I have to agree with him." Andy looks back at the computer and frowns.

"Bobby Diamond?" Mick asks. _That would be way too weird a coincidence…she can't know Bobby, can she? And Bobby's a good Baptist, what would he know about this...stuff?_

Andy wrinkles her forehead at him, "No. Bobby Singer."

"Oh." He takes a swallow from his glass, "So your Bobby knows something about demons? How do you get into that?"

"You probably don't really want to know, Mick. Anyway, he was able to figure out what the maker of that thing was trying to do with all the re-worked symbols." She looks down at the screen and her expression turns triumphant, "Got in!"

"Where?" Mick comes back around the desk to see. She has a half dozen windows open, a LAPD missing persons report on top.

"This is a list of missing kids for the last six weeks." She scrolls down for a few seconds then points, "Is this the one?"

Mick swallows at the image of the little boy. Brown hair frames a wraith-like face; huge smiling eyes look out at them from behind little rectangular glasses. A lopsided smile reveals one missing front tooth. Mick blinks back sudden moisture in his eyes as his memory of the child lying broken in a pile of rank weeds illuminated by the cold beam of a flashlight superimposes itself over the cheerful photo. "Yeah."

Andy glances towards him, and back to the computer. "Samuel Elijah Tanner. Five and a half years old, last seen on Wednesday, October eleventh. There's his parents address and phone number."

Mick closes his eyes and sinks to his heels next to Andy, "We can't even give them some closure; his body had to be…disposed of…There was too much pointing to vampires to allow him into the morgue."

Andy puts her hand on his arm, "Let the bastards that did this pay, Mick. Don't take their guilt and carry it for them. Our job now is to stop them."

Mick's eyes fly open at her words and he stares at her face, searchingly. _Carry their guilt? That's what __Josef said; I was carrying Coraline. But…_

Andy cocks her head slightly at him, "What?"

"N-nothing." He looks away quickly, biting his lip. His cell rings suddenly, breaking the uncomfortable moment and Mick stands quickly to pull it from his front pocket. "St. John."

"Mick. Ryder's got the info on the credit card." Josef's voice is crisp. _Too businesslike, perhaps?_

"That's great." Mick looks up and points to a pen on a pile of papers by Andy's left hand. She hands it to him without a blink, and slides an already scribbled-on sheet towards him. Mick nods at her with gratitude, "Go ahead."

"Name on the card is: Phillip B. Riley. Address is 2341 Felix Avenue. I can fax you the last three statements, if you want." Josef offers.

"Please." Mick finishes scrawling the information on the paper and pushes it towards Andy, who begins typing furiously.

"She's still there, isn't she?" Casual.

"Yeah. She's looking up information about the case, why?" Mick pushes himself upright.

"Can I talk to her? Please?" Mick can hear rustling papers and the clicking of computer keys at the other end as well. It sounded like dueling keyboards.

Mick raises an eyebrow at the way-too-polite phasing, _Please? I haven't ever heard him say 'please'. Ever. _"Why?"

"Put her on the phone, Mick." Polite pretense gone; with a touch of a growl.

_Now there's the Josef I know. _"Josef, I don't think that's a good idea." Mick glances at Andy frowning at the computer.

"Give her the phone." More than a touch of a growl, now.

"It's your head. And I mean that literally." Mick reaches out and touches Andy on the shoulder, "Josef would like to talk to you."

Andy almost loses her eyebrows in her hairline, and reaches for the phone. "Yeah?"

Mick fidgets at the silence as Andy listens. Her expression shifts from suspicion to amusement. "I'll keep that in mind, Josef. Do you need anything more from Mick?" Her eyes widen and she sputters, "Josef!" She pulls the phone from her ear and Mick can see the screen is blank.

"What did he want to tell you?" Mick asks as he reaches for the iphone.

Andy hands it to him, blushing. "He wanted to...ah...commend me for the impression I made on his staff."

"Right." Mick rubs his temple, _I know vampires aren't supposed to get headaches, but these two are enough to try the patience of a saint._ "Anything else?"

"Nope." Andy turns her attention to the computer, too quickly. "Here's directions to the credit card address."

_And I'll take that as another 'you don't want to know.' _"We'd better follow up on this now."

"I agree." Andy stands, "Silk?"

"Sorry, let me go look." Mick tosses back the rest of his glass and strides out of the office. He sets the cup into the sink and takes the stairs two at a time.

In moments, he's back. "Okay. This is all I've got." A slight blush, not from his recent meal, colors his face. He holds out a pair of black lounge pants.

Andy takes them, corners of her lips twitching. "Thanks." She folds the pants, and rolls the athæme into a slim bundle, securing it with the drawstring. "I neither want to be anywhere near this, nor leave it unattended. Oh well. You ready?"

"I guess so. Should I bring anything other than a gun?" _And I'm glad that Beth gave it back..._Mick reaches for his keys on the sofa table as Andy follows him, carrying the silk-muffled dagger.

"Not unless you happen to have the rite of exorcism hanging around somewhere." Andy smiles halfheartedly.

"That's a bit outside my usual reading, sorry." Mick coughs as they head down the hallway.

"I guess the gun'll just have to do, then." Andy pushes the elevator's button and leans against the wall. "I do have to warn you, it won't do much good against anything possessed by a demon. And if Josef is right about the owner of this damn thing," she glances down at the black silk in her hand, "It won't be much use against her, either."

"Maybe we should take a little detour, then." Mick steps into the elevator after Andy.

"For?" She raises an eyebrow at him.

"Seems like we might want to stock up on some hardware." Mick pushes the 'garage' button.

Andy's expression brightens, "Toys? I love shopping for toys."

Mick laughs at her enthusiasm, "Somehow I expected that."

"Who, me?" She arranges her face into an innocent mask and taps her lips with her index finger, "Wonder if I should get Josef a present?"

"Andy!" Mick shakes his head.

"What? I wouldn't want him to feel left out." She grins wolfishly.

"Anything but that. C'mon." Mick sighs, as they step out of the elevator and head to the Mercedes.

* * *

Serena paces, waiting for the sun to drop completely behind the pitiful hills the locals had the gall to call mountains. Everything about Los Angeles grated on her nerves, _Except the power._ Her lips curve into a slow smile, as she contemplates the massive pool of energy below those same hills. _All of these people cram themselves between those mountains and the ocean, why? They say the weather, or jobs. But it's actually the power. Even the sheep feel it..._

Habit lays her hand on her belt, and the jarring absence of her athaeme jerks her attention back to the problem at hand. _Where the fuck, _she smiles at the quaint modern expletive, _did it go? I used the power I had stored in it to bring Lucen to me with that child's blood, then what? _She snarls at herself and the missing dagger's fickle disappearance. _I need it back if I would hope to maintain control. _And without control of the demon, he would take the power and do with it, what?_ Use it to perform new and interesting torture on the hapless humans? Gah. Even sheep deserve better than that._

Finally, the last ray is cut off by the jagged peaks to the east. Serena grabs her keys from the table in the kitchen of the lower-middle class house she had rented with the last of the cash from the poor mortal she'd conned, first into bed, then into the necessary vessel for Lucen. _And the other one is just about as tapped out as Phillip. I'm going to have to abandon calling Damen if I don't get it back. _She snarls at herself and stalks down the short drive to the silver Honda and wrenches open the driver's door of the wretched little car. _Remember, you wouldn't want the Lexus noticed in this neighborhood..._


	7. Chapter 7

"So. A pawn shop?" Andy shuts the Mercedes door after checking twice that it was locked.

Mick smiles at her, "Uh huh. Max knows everything going on in this town, and is willing to sell anything."

"Including silver bullets?" Andy raises an eyebrow at Mick, _the way this is going, my face is going to stick like this._

"Yep. Including silver bullets." Mick holds the belled door open for her.

She steps across the threshold into the cluttered shop. Musty leather, old cigarette smoke, and tarnished silver assault her nose. She looks up at Mick, whose slight frown suggests that he was just as repulsed by the fusty air. _Surely he's even more disgusted. Right now, you couldn't pay me to shift into the wolf...I can't imagine not being able to escape senses like that._

"Mick! What can I do you for?" Andy's head swivels wildly, looking for the owner of the gravelly voice.

From behind a pile of old purses taller than his bent frame shuffles an old man. Mick grins, and strides towards him, clasping his gnarled hand with genuine warmth. "Max! How have you been?"

"Fine. Fine. Damn it, boy, when you gonna get at least a few gray hairs? That's just not fair." Max pokes Mick in the chest, then cocks his head at Andy. "Who's that? You're not back on freshies, are you, boy? Your standards have gone way down, if you are." He frowns back at Mick, "And why ain't she a red-head, huh? You always liked red-heads."

Mick closes his eyes, "She's not..." He glances at Andy with a pained expression, "a freshie, Max."

"Then what is she?" Max limps towards Andy and looks her up and down, "She's kinda plain, but she's put together okay. Hair's pretty, nice ass, but the chest leaves something to be desired."

"Mick." Andy swallows back the urge to rearrange the old man's gnarled features.

"Max. Meet Lady Hawk." Mick folds his arms across his chest.

Andy stares at him, mouth falling open with shock. "What the...? Damn it, Mick!"

Max's eyes widen and he staggers away from Andy, "W-what? But...how? How come she hasn't killed you, then? She know what we are?"

Andy lifts an eyebrow at the old man. _Huh. And somehow I didn't expect that..._

"She knows, Max. Calm down." He catches the old man's elbow and steadies him.

"But..." Max's eyes are wide and begin to pale slightly.

"But nothing." Andy offers Max her best 'I'm-not-going-to-kill-you' smile. "I'm not what everybody seems to think I am."

"Then what are you, girl? You tell me, prove it, and I'll make sure that 'everybody' knows." Max straightens and the veneer of human age drops away.

Andy eyes Max, stiffening unconsciously in response to the change in his persona. "I'm not sure I want 'everybody' to know anything about me, if it comes down to it."

"I'll make sure it's just the ones that matter, then, girl." Max looks up at Mick. "I take it she's met Josef?"

Mick nods.

"No wonder she's a bit jumpy. That paranoid old git." Max turns back to Andy, and his expression softens, "Look. Josef's an ass. Plain an' simple. I'm sorry I got all twitchy there a minute ago, but there's stories 'bout you. Nasty stories. Makes a...well, someone like me an' Mick worry a bit, see? But if you say you ain't going on about separating our heads from our shoulders, I believe you."

Andy frowns at Max, glances at Mick and back to the old-looking vampire. "I swear I don't hunt random vampires, okay? This is really beginning to get old." She looks back up to Mick, "I'll admit, though, before I met Mick, I didn't really think about it. I kind of figured that you all were predators. The handful I'd run into were, anyway. I'd never seen one that wasn't trying to either eat me or somebody else."

"Rogues." Mick rubs the bridge of his nose. "Some turns go bad. The hunger..." He pauses, "Or the power..."

Max nods, his expression uncomfortable.

"...makes them forget what they used to be." Mick looks away from Andy.

Max continues the thought, "Then we take care of 'em, ourselves, mostly. No matter how strong we are, we can't live without humans. An' humans generally don't take well to finding out there's something out there badder than they are. They get all fussy and go Van Helsing on us. An' to be able to feed us all, there's always got to be a hell of a lot more of you than us. That makes you stronger, no matter what the rogues think."

"Or the ones like Josef." Mick glances sideways at Andy.

"Maybe it isn't just humans that don't like the feeling that there's something stronger than them out there." Andy says quietly. _Trust doesn't seem to be the sane thing to do...so why do we all grasp at it so desperately? Guardians and vamps...why does strength hide such weakness?_

Mick frowns at her, his expressive eyes dark. He nods, almost imperceptibly, and takes a deep breath, "Max, we're not here because of Lady Hawk. I need some of your special stuff."

"Right. What'll it be? Broke your stake?" Max strides behind a boxy 'u' of mismatched and chipped display cases. He pulls a ring of keys from his pocket and grins.

"No." Mick runs a hand through his hair, "Ammunition."

Max stares at him a moment, his eyebrows raised. "Huh. You were never one to stock up. What's goin' down?"

"Case, Max." Mick grimaces a little. "Nine millimeter, if you have it."

"Whoa. Buddy, you know I trust you, but that's pretty heavy firepower." Max freezes, half bent over the lock of the case behind the counter.

Andy eyes Max, whose face resembles a granite statue, worry etched in every line. "Have you heard anything about a new vampire in the city, Max?"

He looks over his shoulder at her, "Yeah. Lots. Y'gotta be a bit more specific, girl."

"She's bound to be pretty noteworthy. She might be a guardian." At Max's blank look, Andy continues, "Like me."

The keys jangle as they hit the dusty hardwood floor. Max straightens, staring at Andy as his mouth falls open. "You shittin' me?"

"No, Max. Josef was the one that I.D.'d her. He remembered...something from a while ago that made him think that the vampire we're after is a guardian that he, ah, crossed paths with a couple of centuries ago." Mick glares at Andy with a little shake of his head.

Andy feels her mouth tugging into a slight smile at the P.I.'s warning. She pushes her hair behind her ear and taps her temple, _Telepath, remember? _

Mick jerks and his eyes widen. His whole body stiffens as he stares at her. Andy nods slightly and turns her attention back to Max. "We think she's responsible for the murder of a five year old child. Both the Cleaner and Josef want her found."

Max's mouth opens and shuts a few times before anything comes out, "Both of them? An' they know you're on the case?"

"Josef told me to call her, Max." Mick says quietly, still staring at Andy.

"Fuck us all." Max scratches his head. "What kinda leads you got so far? You said that Josef remembered something 'bout her?"

"We've got this." Andy reaches behind her back and pulls the silk-covered athaeme from the waistband of her pants.

Mick's mouth compresses into a tight line. "Hawk."

Andy nods stiffly at the warning in his tone. _Trust me._ "Have you ever seen anything like this, Max?"

Max gingerly takes the bundle, weighing it in his hand.

"It's steel." Mick's voice and spine are both rigid as he glares at Andy.

"Right." Max unwraps the knife and frowns at the carved blade. He looks up sharply at Andy and back down to the dagger. "Someone was in here, looking for this. But it wasn't a she and it wasn't a vampire." His mouth puckers, "This thing feels...wrong. What the hell is this?"

Andy puts out her hand, and Max drops the athaeme into it. She quickly rolls it back up in the silk. "It's a ritual dagger. The symbols carved into the blade give it the 'wrong' feeling you noticed. It's able to store energy and channel it. Unfortunately, it's quite specifically designed for one thing." She pauses as she tucks the knife back into the waist of her jeans.

"You can't stop there, girl, spit it out." Max rubs his palms on his pants.

"To call and control a demon." Andy looks sideways towards Mick. "Who was looking for it?"

Max blinks at her and shakes his head. "If you didn't have that look on your face, I'd be laughing at that. But you ain't kidding, and that ain't funny. Shit. It was some guy. He gave me his name and number in case it came in." Max reaches for a drawer by the antique cash register with a shaking hand. After a moment of fumbling, he pulls out a yellow post-it and hands it to Mick.

Mick looks at the paper, and up at Andy with narrowed eyes. "P. Riley."

"We'd better get moving." Andy rubs the back of her neck. _I've got a very bad feeling about this Phillip..._

"Yeah." Mick turns to Max, "I really need the bullets, Max."

"Sure." Max retrieves the ring of keys from the floor and unlocks the cabinet. He pulls on a pair of leather gloves and pushes a few boxes to the side. He pulls out a small cardboard box and turns to Mick. "Here you go. How many do you want?"

"I'll take the box." Mick pulls his wallet from his pocket.

"That's going to be a thousand dollars, Mick, you sure?" Max frowns at Mick.

"I'm sure. Here." Mick counts out a small stack of bills and hands them to Max.

"All right." Max puts the money in his pocket and pulls a paper bag from under the counter. He puts the box of ammunition into the bag and hands it to Mick. "Look. There's one more thing."

"What's that?" Mick slides his wallet back into his pocket.

"That Riley guy. He was _just_ here. Walked out less than a minute before you two walked in." Max looks back and forth between Andy and Mick.

Andy stiffens, "Mick. We've got to go. Now."

"Thanks, Max." Mick nods to the old shopkeeper.

"Take care of yourselves, kid." Max holds his hand up.

Andy pushes her way through the door and the bells chime madly as it swings back into place. She looks up and down the deserted sidewalk and curses to herself.

Mick grabs her arm, "What was that?"

"We've got to try to catch up with Phillip." She looks up at him and freezes at his expression.

"Not Phillip." He points to his forehead, "I heard you."

"Uh huh." Andy frowns at him, "You were supposed to."

Mick stares.

"What?" Andy tries to pull her arm away from him, but he doesn't let go.

"Don't you _know_?" Mick asks, frowning.

"No, Mick. I don't. And we're wasting time here." Andy growls._ What in God's name is up with him?_

"You read Max's mind in there, then _talked _to me in my head!" Mick's voice wavers on the edge of unpleasantly loud.

Andy's stomach clenches and she closes her eyes with frustration. "And?"

"And what?" Mick squeezes her arm.

Andy grits her teeth at the pressure and opens her eyes. _That's going to leave a bruise... _"I've talked to you 'in your head' before. And I told you I can hear thoughts when I try. We needed the information, and I needed to know if we could trust him. We're going to need any edge we can get on this, Mick, and I'm not going to apologize for using everything I've got to survive this one."

Mick looks down at her, and she can see fear flicker across his face. "What are we up against, Andy?"

"I can level this city. I'm afraid of what we're going to face. Is that what you wanted to hear?" Andy's voice is flat.

Mick closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. He lets it out and opens his eyes slowly. He looks down at his hand on Andy's arm and lets her go suddenly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Andy rubs the already bruising marks. "I know."

His eyes widen a little.

"Not like that. I can hear it in your voice and see it in your face. I freaked you out. I'm sorry." Andy sighs, and tries to smile at the vampire, "I won't look for your secrets, Mick. Believe me, I do understand secrets."

Mick winces, "I guess you would."

"Yeah. Fat lot of good they've done me." Andy ruthlessly throttles down the image of Mark's face, filled with shock and fear and glares at Mick. "Are we done here?"

"Yeah. Let's go." Mick turns to the Mercedes and unlocks the passenger door before moving around to the drivers side.

Andy opens the door and drops to the seat with a sigh. "I can call Josef and get him to get Ryder to track down any info he can get about this number."

Mick lifts an eyebrow at her, "All right." He passes her his phone and the post-it.

She dials and puts the phone to her ear.

"Mick, what's up?" Josef's voice is slightly tinny from the cell speakers.

"Actually, it's Andy. Shut up and listen." Mick turns his head and stares at her with an expression of shock. She smiles and continues, "Have Ryder look up 555-6386 and text back anything he can get." She presses the 'End Call' icon and tosses the phone on the seat.

"Andy?" Mick's voice is subdued.

"Yeah." She drops her head back against the head rest.

"Can I ask you again to please not kill Josef the next time you see him?" Mick glances over to her.

"You can ask." Andy closes her eyes. "Wake me when we get there."


	8. Chapter 8

Mick pulls the Mercedes to the curb two blocks from the address and cuts the engine. He looks at the guardian sleeping next to him as he pulls on a pair of latex gloves. She appears fragile and completely disarming with her face relaxed and a few curls falling untidily over one eye.He frowns as he begins loading the silver bullets into his gun, while bits of their earlier...conversation...run through his head. _"I can level this city." _His stomach churns with the ramifications of those words. He glances guiltily at the darkly purple marks on her arm. _She really could end me in a moment... _He thinks of Josef. _Oh, buddy, you are playing with fire here. _Mick looks away with a shake of his head and eyes the decidedly working-class neighborhood. _Well, sitting here isn't going to catch our killers or make me any less...confused._ He pulls off the gloves and tosses them under his seat. Gingerly he touches Andy's wrist, "We're here."

Like she did back in his apartment, her eyes snap open with a little flare of silver. In the dark of the car, Mick can see that they actually radiate a bit of light before fading back to dark bluish grey. She straightens and looks around. "Looks peaceful enough."

"Let's go see what we can find." Mick opens his door and climbs out of the car. Shutting the door gently, he scans the area again and tucks the nine millimeter into his belt.

Andy glances at him as she pushes her door shut, equally quietly. "That is extremely unlikely to work against this Phillip guy."

"Why do you think that? Silver's as good as lead. Just costs more." Mick frowns at her.

"Nothing ends a demon, Mick." She looks away, scanning the street. "Except me, if I'm willing to half-kill myself."

Her casual tone stops Mick in his tracks. _ What does that mean?_ "You really believe that there's a demon involved?"

She turns back to him, "I do. Bobby put most of it together for me, but the evidence sure points towards the owner of this thing," she taps the small of her back, "being successful."

Mick blinks at her, several litanies from his youth mixing in the back of his mind. _Oh, Mary, mother of God, protect me from this evil that walks before me..._

Andy waves her hand at his face. "Mick. You still there?"

He shakes his head, _And you are the evil. Shut up, stupid._ "Yeah. I'm just having some trouble with 'demons are real'."

"I have a feeling you are going to get over that little hang-up pretty quick-like." Andy turns away and begins walking towards the row of identical stucco 'American dream' post-war box houses.

Mick stares at her retreating back a moment, then follows. He jogs to catch up with her, and she nods at him as he draws even and they stop in front of their goal. The lawn is overgrown and beginning to brown, in stark contrast with the neatly kept yards on either side. "Looks like no one's been home for a while."

"Yeah." He steps onto the grass which crackles under his feet, "Stay close."

She chuckles and tosses him an amused glance, "I was about to tell _you_ that."

He looks down at her for a breath, then feels a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Right. Together then?"

Mick pulls his lock picking set from the breast pocket of his jacket. As he pulls out the correctly sized blade, he glances back at Andy. She's standing with her back to him, head swiveling slowly as she scans the area. As her profile moves into his view, he swallows back a bit of unease. Her face has completely changed from her normally transparent expressiveness to a steely mask. He frowns slightly, and turns back to the task of teasing open the deadbolt with slightly trembling hands. The lock '_clicks_' and the door swings inward under his palm.

Andy's attention snaps towards him and into the dark house. She lays her hand on his elbow and takes a step past him. He suppresses a shiver at her touch; for a moment a wave of bowstring-taut wariness overcomes him but vanishes with her hand leaving his arm. The air that greets them is stale and warm as they step over a pile of mail and into the small entryway. Mick reaches out for the light switch on the wall by his right hand, but nothing happens as he flicks it on and off a couple of times. Andy looks over her shoulder at him and smiles, the unexpected expression startling.

"I thought you could see in the dark." She breathes as she takes a step back to his side. She lays her hand on the wall just over the light switch and her eyes briefly swirl to silver. The lights flicker and come on.

"What did you do?" Mick whispers, _Okay, gotta admit _that's_ a handy trick._

"Just convinced PG&E that this house was back on the grid." She closes her eyes briefly, and lets out a sharp sigh. "There's no one here. We should be all right."

_While I'm not sure if I want to know how someone could put a house back on the electrical grid by touching the wall, it's comforting to think that her tricks aren't all in the 'shoot-to-kill' category, _Mick muses as he follows her farther into the small house. Everything is covered with a fine layer of southern California dust, just the right thickness to go with the state of neglect of the front yard. The furniture could be described as eclectic, if one was feeling generous. Apparently, Andy was not.

"What did this guy do? Start at Ikea, then fill in the gaps with "free" shit left on curbs?" She sniffs, rubbing her nose as she passes the particularly well-used sofa.

Mick grimaces a little, the stale air from a house closed up during Santa Ana season certainly enhanced the effect of decades old cat urine. He coughs, "Could be worse."

She looks up at him from where she was thumbing through a stack of opened envelopes on the badly assembled coffee table. "You mean that it could stink more, or that I could be blessed with accentuated olfactory abilities?"

Mick chuckles, "You pick." He moves towards the back of the room, and glances into the kitchen. He frowns at the half-dozen beer cans on the counter, but nothing seems out of place. He reaches up and pushes the 'play' button on the answering machine on the wall by the microwave. A mechanically bland voice announces: "You have one old message."

Andy looks up from the bills in her hands, her expression one of keen interest.

The machine continues: "Received at seven oh three, Monday, October ninth." A petulant female voice replaces the machine's soothing tone. "Phillip. It's Serena Fitzgerald. You promised to meet me at seven tonight. Did you forget? Call me." The machine beeps and goes quiet.

Mick glances at Andy, who shrugs.

"Another name for Ryder to check." He continues on, down the short hallway, past a tiny bathroom and stops. The pungency of the front room had overwhelmed it, but now the scent of old blood hits him, coppery and repulsive with decay. "I've got something."

Andy's at his elbow in moments, "What is it?"

"Blood." Mick breathes deeply, trying to get something out of the scent. Lust, pleasure, desperation, and pain hit him along with a dim image of a sandy brown-haired man and raven dark woman tangled together with the sheets on the bed. He blinks away the scene and rubs the back of his neck with slight embarrassment and looks around the room for the source of the odor.

Andy enters the room and walks to a cluttered desk in the corner. She begins rifling through assorted papers. Mick follows her, but goes to the bed and gingerly pulls back the covers. They resist the movement at first, then reluctantly peel apart and Mick gags slightly at the dark brown stains on the pillows. Flashes of another night, more than fifty years ago, threaten to overwhelm him.

"Mick." Andy's voice is laced with impatience.

"Sorry, what?" Mick turns to her, and away from the shadows of his past staining the sheets.

"Look at this." She holds out a framed picture.

Mick moves towards her and takes the photo. The man from his recent vision and a dozen kids smile out from the frame. They all wear red T-shirts with 'Cardinals' in white script on their chests. Mick looks up at Andy, "Elijah's in this picture. And I'm willing to bet that that man is Phillip."

She nods, her eyes dark with worry. "So are eleven other children."

"Take that." Mick hands the photo back to Andy, and looks at the bed. "I think Phillip was turned here."

Andy curses.

Mick stares at her. _I believe that was three different languages..._

The lights flicker. Andy snarls and drops the picture, the glass shattering on the hardwood floor. Her eyes flood silver and Mick feels his own visage respond in kind. She hisses, "Get behind me. Now!"

He hesitates.

Andy curses again, and Mick feels a sharp stab of panic and frustration precede her mental voice screaming hollowly in his head, _Now, damn it! I can't shield you from it unless you're touching me!_

Her fear goads him into stumbling towards her. Suddenly a violent shove sends him slamming into the wall. He growls with surprise and pain as several ribs grate against his struggle to move, but he's pinned by some invisible force.

Andy crouches slightly as a man glides into the room. He looks at her and his lips compress, then he glances at Mick who recoils instinctively from the blackness filling the man's eyes. He smiles at Mick, showing clearly elongated fangs, before turning towards Andy.

"So. I seem to find myself surrounded by vampires and guardians at every turn." The creature wearing Phillip's face sighs and shakes his head. "And I'm beginning to not like it."

It's the only warning the thing offers. Mick struggles as the pressure on his chest increases sharply and a few more ribs give as the drywall cracks against his back. Mick's vision dims with pain, but he hears Andy again in his head, _Hold on!_ It's the last thing he perceives as the agony peaks with a searing cracking at the base of his skull. Blackness overwhelms him.

* * *

Josef paces behind his desk listening to the litany of excuses pouring from the mouth of the terrified man over eight thousand miles away. Apparently his silence was both encouraging the man and frightening him into near incoherency. Josef sighs, the entertainment value of the one-sided conversation beginning to fade. "Look. Individually, any one of your...reasons...to fail managing the account satisfactorily would have been acceptable. I'm not sure, though, that anyone could survive the accumulation of catastrophes you describe." Silence except for the buzzing of the international connection. Josef smiles. "It seems you have two choices. Find a way to put the three million back into the account, or start running." He thumbs the "End Call" and tosses the phone on his desk. _Idiots. I'm surrounded by idiots._

He collapses into the comfortable embrace of his chair and runs his hand through his closely-cropped hair in frustration. _Turn your back on these people for a moment, and the sky falls. Ridiculous._ He leans back and admires the fresco on the ceiling. The artist that had painted it really was amazing. _Of course he should be after nearly three centuries of practice. _Unexpectedly an icy draft blows several sheets of paper into his lap. He looks down and feels his jaw drop slowly at the apparition staggering towards him. The scent of blood and burnt hair hits his nostrils and he knocks his chair to the floor as he leaps to his feet, eyes flooding nearly white and fangs distending to their fullest.

The creature catches itself against one of the client chairs and hangs onto it like a lifeline. It pants a moment then raises it's head to make eye contact with him.

"Anderyn?" Josef whispers, taken aback by the guardian's sudden appearance and battered condition.

She reaches out a drops a somewhat bent and slightly bloody photograph on the desk. "Serena Fitzgerald." She stifles a cough, then whispers, "Ryder."

Josef stares at her. Blood trickles from a laceration running across her temple into her hairline and drips from her chin onto the chair. She breathes shallowly and he can hear the grate of a cracked rib.

"What happened? Why are you here?" Josef frowns, "Where's Mick?"

"Phillip." She takes a couple of breaths, "Mick's hurt."

"What? Where is he? And why the hell are you _here?_" Josef hears his own voice crack.

Andy lifts an eyebrow at him, her expression clearly asking how he could be so thick. "I can't move him by myself, and I think he needs better than dead men's blood to recover." She drops her head with a slight whine and pants from the effort of the long sentence.

"What's wrong with him that he needs help moving?" Josef can't help but growl a little with the frustration of trying to get the guardian to speak sensibly. _There isn't anything that he shouldn't at least regain consciousness from...just think of the last time she had to help him._

She looks back up, her eyes dilated with pain. "His neck and most of the rest of his bones are broken. I'm sure a few of his organs are pretty well wrecked, too."

"What?!" Josef leans forward against the desk, snarling at the guardian. "How could you let something like this happen?"

She stares at him a moment then lets go of the chair she was leaning against and falls forward to catch herself against the desk, her hands leaving bloody smears on the mahogany and her face within inches of his. "How could I let...?" Her voice chokes off, but she continues anyway. _You paranoid, arrogant, stupid son of a bitch. Phillip is a vampire-demon chimera. _Josef gasps, but she continues, her mental voice dripping with disdain. _He appeared after we broke into his old house. I was too slow, and the bastard got Mick. He did a bang-up job almost getting me as well, _she jerks her chin at her condition, _but froze when I dropped the damn athaeme. He grabbed it, but his hesitation gave me time to stick him. I didn't have enough juice left to end him, but I guess he was surprised at the effect of my sword on his vampire body and...left. Now I'm here, because I need your help to save Mick and get him out of there before the bastard recovers and comes back._ She sways a little, but maintains eye contact.

Josef shakes his head, the effect of hearing someone's voice on the inside of his skull was exceedingly disconcerting. Especially when that voice was echoed by the speaker's emotions at every word. Especially when those words were paranoid, arrogant, stupid son of a bitch. He feels his lip curl at Andy, but restrains himself, barely, and turns away from her to stalk to his fridge. _When Mick's safe, the guardian and I are going to have a little chat. _He opens a cabinet next to the refrigerator and pulls out a small, soft-sided cooler. He empties the fridge into the case and turns stiffly back towards Andy who was listing a little, still leaning against the desk but now with a hand pressed against her ribs. He drops the case onto the desk next to her hand and frowns at her. Annoyed by the necessity of the question, he asks, "Are you going to be all right?"

She glances at him sideways, apparently abandoning attempts at speech in favor of breathing, _Probably._

"Wonderful." Josef allows sarcasm to creep into his tone and reaches for the telephone.

_What are you doing?_ Andy lifts her head, frowning.

"Calling for my car." Andy blinks at him, so he continues, slowly enunciating each word, "So we can go get Mick."

_We don't have time for that._ She pushes herself away from the desk with a wince and straightens. _It'll take at least forty minutes by car._

"And what do you propose? My helicopter would be a bit conspicuous, no?" Josef puts his hands on his hips with frustration.

_You'll come with me._ She spreads her wings slightly, revealing a long burn and a few more cuts, feathers matted with blood in spots.

"Oh _hell_ no!" Josef staggers back a step putting his hands up and shaking his head violently.

Andy stares at him a moment; her lips twitch and stretch into a grin.

"What the...?" Josef gapes at her.

She laughs, then gasps and presses the heel of her hand into her side with a grimace. _Ow...shit...but that was funny._

"What was funny?" Josef pouts, stung.

She glances back up at him, fighting down another grin. _You. The big bad old vamp afraid to fly._

Josef feels his mouth sag open, "Are you insane? I'm not afraid. I'm just not willing to trust my immortality to a guardian. Especially not one about to tip over from getting the shit beat out of her, thank you."

_In that case, you better be prepared for the end of your best friend, because Mick isn't going to make it out of there even if I bring him that blood before Phillip recovers and either destroys him or uses that damn knife to call another demon to take over his body. _Andy glares at him. _And if the second scenario comes to pass, you'd better be prepared to be the one to do the ending because I won't be around to do it._

Josef winces from her harshness, and the implications of the last sentence. She was making no attempt to hide her meaning behind the words, and her stark acceptance of the possibility of death to save Mick in the face of his very real fear of _her_ and her motives was like another broken nose. He looks up at her, so angry that all color bleaches from his eyes, his jaw clenching so hard his fangs pierce his lips and blood begins to trickle down his chin.

She stares back, face set in a stubborn frown.

Josef clenches his fists, fingernails cutting crescents into his palms, mind blank with rage at the guardian's challenge. He spins away from her and kicks his downed chair. It hits the wall and disintegrates. Several pictures and books fall to the floor at the impact. Slowly he turns back to her, deadly menace dripping from every word. "When Mick is safe, I'm done with you."

She bares her teeth at him, the wolf showing through her human face. _Gladly. _

"Fine." He grabs the case of blood and walks up to her, stopping a foot away. "Well, what do I do?"

She takes the step to close the distance between them, and smiles. _Put your arm around me, and when I tell you, jump. Just don't go through the ceiling._ She slides her left arm around his ribs, still pinning her elbow against her other side.

He stiffens at her touch, and swallows down his rising panic at the prospect of trusting her.

_I need your help, Josef. I will not hurt you._ Andy looks up at him and the corner of her lip twitches upward, _Yet._

For no reasonable reason, Josef feels himself relax at the "Yet." He puts his arm around her shoulders, and cocks his head at her, "Good enough?"

She firms her hold around his chest, and nods. _Hold on,_ she lifts her wings, wincing slightly. _Jump._

Josef crouches and obeys. Andy drives her wings down just as he pushes them both off the carpet and icy blackness envelopes him. Panic claws at his throat, but there is no air to support his scream.


	9. Chapter 9

A door slams, and Serena whirls towards the sound of drywall cracking and the splinter of hinges pulling from cheap laminate. _Phillip's home. Sounds like I'm going to need a new door. _ She folds her arms across her chest and silently thanks the vampire she stole her existence from so many years ago for the ability to control her blood pressure at will. She carefully smooths her face into a cool mask, covering her unease with pretended disinterest.

Her calm facade shatters as Phillip staggers into view, clutching his gut. "What happened?" She rushes to his side and guides him to the sofa where he collapses with a grunt.

He looks up at her and she winces from the unexpected effect of his manifesting both sides of his nature. His irises are bleached china blue, but the rest of his eyes are a deep black. "A guardian."

She stares at him a moment. "What?" Her mind spins, _How would that be possible? What on earth called it? The sacrifice? But I shielded that area to a fare-thee-well. No one, not even a guardian, could have felt anything._

"A guardian did this." He moves his hand briefly, and blood flows freely from a wound nearing two inches wide. He clenches his teeth and frowns, "You convinced me that allowing you to turn this body into a vampire would make me stronger. But I cannot heal a vessel that is dead! Why isn't this body healing itself?"

Serena shakes her head, "I don't know. Have you fed?"

"Three times." He curls his lip at her, "Nothing."

"This can't be possible." She turns and goes quickly to the hall linen closet. She yanks the obstinate door nearly from it's track and pulls a sheet and a couple of washcloths from the cedar shelves. She tears the sheet into strips as she returns to Phillip, still slumped on the couch. "Lean forward." She pulls his shirt up as he straightens with a hiss, revealing that the wound penetrated through his torso. She presses one of the washcloths to his back. "Lift your hand a moment." She puts the other one on the front wound and he winces at the pressure. She begins binding the strips of sheet around his middle until, finally, she senses the bleeding begins to slow. "What did the guardian stab you with? Silver?" _Silver is the only thing that might cause something like this to happen, but feeding should have taken care of the damage even so._

"No. It was clear, like glass, but it didn't break." Phillip leans back against the cushions.

"What was _it?_" Serena wipes her hands on a bit of sheet.

"A sword." He looks up at her, his eyes still startling.

"A sword. You do realize this is two thousand-seven, right? Not even relics like me still carry swords." Serena smiles at him.

"She wasn't 'carrying' it, it appeared in her hand, from nowhere, after I crushed the vampire she was with." Phillip shifts slightly and mercifully closes his eyes.

_We'll start with the magically-appearing sword, _then _move to the 'guardian with a vampire'... _"Phillip, please, you have to try to make sense for me to understand how to help you." Serena tries to keep the patronizing tone at a minimum.

"Make sense?" He pushes himself upright suddenly with a snarl, "What doesn't make sense is why you would want me to take a vessel that was weak enough that I could be damaged to this degree from a simple sword wound. Perhaps you had something like this planned from the beginning? Summon me, bribe me into this form, use my abilities to secure the power in the area, then send me back?"

Serena blanches at the accusation, too close to the truth. "Never! I truly believed that turning this body into a vampire would enhance your power, not weaken you. You can touch my thoughts. You know my motivation, I can't hide anything from you." _And I am about to find out if this statement is the truth or the lie I hope it to be..._She winces from the sudden pressure of the demon Lucen in her mind. She holds her mental shields just below her surface thoughts, desperate to keep him from the deeper layers of her mind as the last vestige of Phillip fades from the demon's eyes until there is naught but inky blackness reflecting her frightened face. His eyelids narrow, and she feels her heart stop, literally, for a few moments. Then he blinks, and the blackness is gone, leaving only the pale blue irises of the vampire looking up at her. He leans back into the couch, and she takes a breath and forces her heart to resume circulating her borrowed blood through her body.

"Fine." Phillip sighs, "What could possibly cause this kind of damage, then?"

"I can think of nothing but silver and fire that could hurt you and be difficult for you to heal from. But you really should have been able to offset the effects of a silver wound by feeding." She begins to pace, the measured steps soothing; the antithesis of her thoughts, which had scattered like rabbits before a pack of hounds.

"It was certainly neither. And that creature was strong. She continued fighting me, and had the strength to fight me, long after even you would have exhausted the power you store in your little toy." His mouth quirks, and he shifts his weight a little reaching into the back pocket of his jeans. "Which reminds me; I have a little surprise for you." He pulls out a small black bundle, a glint of steel gleaming from a small rent in the fabric.

"My athaeme! How did you find it?" She reaches excitedly for the dagger, but Phillip pulls it away. "What are you doing? Give it to me!"

"And exactly why should I return to you the means to control me?" His eyes narrow at Serena's slight flinch, "I believe I made my point. So, I think for now I will hold onto this." He lays the athaeme on his lap, "At least until I am completely convinced you have no motive to exercise the binding power of our little contract."

Serena forces her face into a neutral arrangement and nods, stiffly. "Do as you feel you must. But remember, if you would like your partner Damen at your side, you will have to begin to trust me again. Breaking through the gates of hell requires a special sort of power, and you know that I am your only hope to bring him to you."

Phillip's face momentarily twists into a snarl, but relaxes as quickly. "Understood. But back to our little problem. How would a guardian be here? Shouldn't one such as that have been called directly to the sacrifice? I happened upon her and the vampire searching Phillip's house when I was finishing up the errands you sent me on."

"This makes no sense. You are correct, we are called directly to the situations we are supposed to change. A guardian should have simply appeared when I had summoned you with the power of the child's death, if it were to be involved somehow. Not days afterwards." She freezes, sudden alarm thrilling her nerves, "Did you leave it alive?"

"Unfortunately, yes. I was gaining ground until she dropped this," he taps the silk-covered knife in his lap, "surprising me momentarily. When I retrieved it, she was able to mark me. The pain and weakness of the wound would have given her the opportunity to end this body, leaving me no vessel to occupy so I chose to leave. She was badly damaged, and the vampire was dying. It is unlikely either are still a threat."

Serena purses her lips, "Do not underestimate a guardian." Her eyes flash with anger, "We will make you regret it." She returns to pacing, thinking. _A modern guardian. Working with a vampire. For what? Why? And how would such an unlikely alliance occur?_ Her breath catches in her chest with the realization. _The Cleaner? No. Yes. It had to be. Fuck. When did vampires grow consciences?_ She turns to Phillip. "It seems that we need to move our plan forward, and quickly. How ever the guardian was involved, she is a very real threat. I need to recharge the athaeme so that you can use it to make a link to the power in the area, then I will bring you Damen as we agreed."

"Fine. But first I have to rest. We will move tomorrow at sunset." Phillip pushes himself from the couch and looks down at her. "The sun will rise in an hour, I will take the freezer for the day. You know where to find them?"

"Of course. You gave me the list." Serena forces herself to return his glare.

"Good. We will need five." He turns from her and moves away, towards the bedrooms.

"They will be ready by sunset." Serena lifts her lip at him, her fangs visible as she growls silently at his retreating back. She shifts her form, blurring into a large raven. She raises iridescent black wings and disappears.

* * *

_The blackness is all-enveloping. It winds its way through your mind and into your soul. It sears it's path with an icy knife as it cuts at your sanity until you wonder if you were imagining the very existence of light and warmth. You question the image you cling to, your only hope that the frozen darkness may have an end, until your uncertainty brings with it the certainty of your death in the blackness. Despair grips your heart, but you cannot even feel it beating in your chest, only a memory that once you existed where you could feel more than cold, see more than black, and hope for more than an end to the torment. Your strength fades, as if you bled from an open wound, and with it your self._

Sharpening panic invades her weakening consciousness. Josef. _I'm not alone. I can't let him die. _She reaches for the last scrap of strength left in her body and she cringes from the warmth slamming into her as she stumbles and her knees buckle under the unexpected weight on her shoulders. She and Joseph collapse onto the worn oak floor of the bedroom where she'd left Mick bleeding a moment ago. Her side screams with the agony of Josef's weight on her cracked rib and she pushes feebly at him. His eyes are blank, bleached white and his face is taut with fear. She reaches into his mind, _Josef, please wake up! It's over. Josef!_

He jerks and blinks at her. Her mind still open to him, she feels his panic turn to a rage he barely holds in check. She cowers from him, from the physical threat as well as the pressure of four hundred years of existence and memories flooding her mind. For a moment, she's completely overwhelmed by swirling images, faces, scenes of fierce predatory joy, pain, fear, love, hate, anger, despair. Josef's life threatens to shatter her sanity until, suddenly, it stops. She gasps at the relief and opens her eyes to see him pushing himself away from her, his expression twisting with a mixture of shock and disgust. She slams the barriers to her mind closed, too late.

"You will never do that again." Josef whispers.

The absence of volume more terrifying than any uncontrolled fit of rage could ever be, Andy nods in fearful agreement, caring not at all if he meant taking him through the blackness, touching his mind, or touching him at all. She was within inches of violent death, and it was staring at her, holding itself back by a thread.

Josef glares down at her for a moment, as his eyes darken back to a rich brown. He blinks, then looks away and down to the cooler by his hand. He reaches for it and stands, turning from her and to Mick, who was slumped against the wall, his head and limbs twisted at unnatural angles. He sets the cooler down and sinks to his heels next to Mick, touching his friend gently. "Get up and help me."

Andy pushes herself to her knees and staggers to her feet. She moves towards Josef and Mick and kneels next to Mick's head, careful to avoid any contact with Josef. Together they begin straightening broken limbs until Mick lays flat on the floor. Josef opens the cooler, and pulls a bottle from it. He looks up at Andy, making eye contact, and she winces from it. "I'll lift his head and shoulders so we don't just drown him, you try to get this to go down."

She nods, and takes the bottle gingerly from Josef. He stands and moves around her, and kneels next to her, his elbow brushing her wing. She jerks from the touch, and he glances to her before bending his attention back down to Mick. He slides his arm under Mick's shoulders and steadies his head as he lifts him partly upright. "Go ahead."

Andy puts the bottle to Mick's mouth and allows a bit to trickle past his lips.

Josef murmurs something in German, the tone encouraging, and Andy sees Mick swallow. "Good. More. Slowly."

She obeys. Mick quickly responds to the fresh blood and begins to drink normally. As the bottle empties, bruises and cuts fade from his face. He takes a last swallow, and his eyes open. He looks up at Josef and his brow furrows slightly, "Josef?"

"In the flesh." Josef jerks his chin at Andy, "Another one."

She reaches into the cooler and pulls out another chilled crystal bottle. Mick lifts a hand a few inches, but it shakes, and Andy smiles at him. "Relax. Here."

She puts the rim of the bottle to his mouth and he drinks, but he looks at her with a troubled expression. He empties the second bottle, and rests his head back against Josef's arm. His eyes darken back to cloudy hazel and he frowns up at Josef. "What happened? All I remember is getting slammed into that wall. How'd you get here?"

Josef's eyes flick towards Andy, who looks down. "Your friendly guardian dropped the ball, and fetched me to clean up the mess."

Mick blinks and looks at Andy. "What happened?"

She tries to meet his eyes, but can't. "Josef's basically right on the money. Phillip kicked my ass, and it's by sheer luck either of us are even alive."

"How?" Mick glances back up at Josef.

"We probably ought to continue this conversation elsewhere." Josef gestures to Andy to move, and as she pushes herself to her feet, he reaches down and lifts the taller vampire easily. Mick stiffens slightly, but doesn't object in any other way. Andy bends painfully and picks up the cooler and turns to follow the two vampires. Josef looks over his shoulder at her. "I really do hope you have a better plan for leaving than getting me here?"

"Mick's car is just a couple blocks down the road." Andy limps past Josef and opens the front door cautiously, the neighborhood is still quiet and dark, though the sky is lightening a bit to the east.

"Good." Josef strides out of the house and across the neglected lawn towards the black Mercedes. Andy follows.

As they near the car, glass glitters on the pavement of the passenger side. "What the hell?" Josef asks, and Mick cranes his neck to look.

Andy stumbles past them and looks through the broken window. She curses, and looks over her shoulder, "Phillip's number is gone, Mick."

Mick closes his eyes, "Max."

"Shit." Andy pops the lock and opens the door. She drops the cooler onto the sidewalk, and pulls out two bottles. "You're taking him back to his penthouse, right?"

Josef nods, "And you?"

"I'm going to see if there's anything left of Max." She spreads her wings.

Josef looks sharply at her. Their eyes meet and hold a moment, then he blinks and nods.

Andy grins as she jumps into the icy blackness for the third time that night, Josef's voice echoing in her mind, _Take care. Because if you die, I want to be there..._


	10. Chapter 10

Mick grunts as Josef drops him into the passenger seat of the Mercedes and shuts the door. Chips of the window poke at him through his coat and jeans. _My poor girl! _He reaches out and pats the door, he's had this car for forty years. During that time he'd never let anything worse than the bad parallel parking job by that valet in the eighties happen to her. _A broken window! Where am I going to get a vintage part?_

"You can stop fussing over the car, buddy. My mechanic will take care of it." Josef reaches into the backseat and pulls out another bottle of blood, "Hungry? There's one more where this came from." He puts his hand out, "I do hope you didn't drop your keys somewhere, I never did learn how to hot-wire one of these things."

Mick licks his lips, his body was screaming for more blood already, and he couldn't help but appreciate Josef's private stock even without having most of his bones broken by a demon. He reaches into his hip pocket and pulls out the keys, offering them to Josef.

Josef takes them and puts the bottle into his hand. "You've got to feed some more, I can hear your bones scrape as you breathe."

"I know." Mick pulls the cork from the bottle and takes a long pull. He closes his eyes as the blood quickly moves through his body, restoring damaged tissues and knitting bones. The relief is almost intoxicating and he rests his head against the seat with a sigh.

Josef slides the keys into the ignition and fires up the old car's engine. He pulls it away from the curb and points it towards the penthouse. "So. What happened back there?"

Mick rolls his head towards Josef without lifting it from the headrest. "Not much more that you already know. We stopped by old Max's shop to pick up some ammunition. Andy got some information out of him, and confirmation that the Riley guy seems to be involved with more than just financing this mess. We came here to try to pick up some leads and were ambushed." He trails off, and takes another mouthful of blood. "It's funny, though. Max said the guy that stopped by the shop asking about the athaeme _wasn't_ a vampire. Riley most certainly is. Max shouldn't have missed that, even though Riley's a new turn..."

"Wasn't there two humans at the place where the kid was killed?" Josef glances towards Mick, "Could there be someone else running around?"

"Crap. You're right." Mick gulps down a few more swallows. "I guess getting smashed into the wall knocked that bit out of my head."

Josef grins slowly at him, "Too bad you're at a disadvantage, that's a hard one to pass up."

"Shut up." Mick finishes the bottle in his hand and pushes himself a bit more upright. The glass on the seat digs into different bits of his backside and he grimaces. "And you couldn't even brush the damn seat off?"

"My hands were rather full." Josef keeps grinning as he guides the Mercedes onto the highway and presses the accelerator. Wind begins buffeting Mick, and bits of glass spray behind them onto the pavement. The noise from the Mercedes rolling up to speed makes speech impossible and Mick gives up on a return sally.

He looks out of the open window as the city flies past; inexplicably a pair of bright blue eyes, more familiar than his own hazel, fill his consciousness. A leaden weight settles on his chest as he remembers how fearful tears welled up in those beautiful, trusting eyes and threatened to spill over as he turned from her, leaving her confused and shocked by his harsh, "He's already dead," and all that those three sharp words implied about himself.

_I've got to go see her. To let her know...what? That an obsessed, undead monster begs her not to fear and hate him? That the creature that feels responsible for a trauma she'll never quite recover from, that has watched her for twenty-two years, can't stand the idea of stepping back into the shadows? Can't stand the idea that he may face the end of his existence with her looking at him with fear in her face, branded in his mind? That after all this time, he's finally found someone he can trust again? _He clenches his eyes shut against more than the howling wind and curses himself for his weakness, _I'm damned already, may as well try to touch the light while I still can. _

He reaches into the back seat and pulls out the last bottle from the cooler, Josef glances towards him as he pushes the Mercedes to her limits on the empty freeway and tosses him an encouraging grin. Mick nods back and begins working on the bottle. The hunger from his injuries is finally subsiding and he feels the last of the pain fade under the soothing balm of the blood sliding down his throat. He rests his head against the seat again and tries to still his thoughts as the car continues to rumble towards home.

* * *

Andy falls out of the icy black just outside Max's shop, and stumbles a few steps before catching herself against a parked car with a wing. She manages to hang onto the two bottles in her hands without dropping them and looks around nervously, as the shop's neighborhood is one that would be busier in the hours after midnight, when the denizens of the night felt safe to walk as the rest of the world slept deeply.

Her luck obviously gone the way of the sun, a trio of heads snap in her direction. The owners of said heads, dressed in a theme of shredded black cloth and stainless steel, freeze in mid-step and gape at her. Their eyes widen; the sudden appearance of a battered woman clutching two bottles filled with a ruby liquid to her chest, leaning against a small car with a large, grey wing splayed widely across the faded and chipped hood undoubtedly difficult to catalog: Reality, or the effects of the various pharmaceuticals running through their systems?

Andy curses silently as she straightens, folding her wing but still using it to keep herself upright, and tries to back casually out of the unfortunate circle of sickly yellow light cast by the only working street lamp on the entire block. The trio, less intoxicated than they appeared at first, track her movement. Andy closes her eyes briefly in frustration, as she tries to summon the strength to stand without leaning against the battered Miata, and folds her wings tight to her back, hoping the shadow she'd finally reached will confuse the trio sufficiently to make them question what they'd just seen.

Shifting wasn't an option in her current state, between the painful effects of the cracked rib, and being down to the last dregs of energy, she'd probably lose consciousness halfway through. _And that would be just dandy...unconscious pile of feathers and blood for the cops to find. Nice. Just keep walking, folks, please. God, I don't have anything left to deal with this!_ She puts a little pressure behind her thoughts, _Leave, damn it! You do not want to find out if what you just saw is real. Go!_ Thankfully, the gothic trio is willing to believe what they are sure they thought of on their own and scurry away down the cracked sidewalk into the night.

Andy sags a little in relief, and starts towards the belled door of Max's shop. Stumbling only a little, she crosses the street and looks through the smudged glass. At first, the chaos doesn't register, the clutter is already so thick. But as she pushes the door open, the metallic scent of blood hits her, and she gags back a sudden wave of nausea. Andy steps inside, cautiously, and looks around, trying to pinpoint the source of the blood smell. The the door swings shut behind her, and the bells on the door jangle madly, irrepressibly cheerful in spite of the horrible miasma of fear and death inside.

She sees a body slumped behind a shelf of mismatched porcelain goods. She hurries her steps, "Ma..." but her heart goes to her throat, cutting off the name. The body, while male, is not Max and she turns away from the terrified expression twisting the corpse's face. "Max?" She chokes, then, louder, "Max! Are you here?" A tiny sound, behind the counter, answers her and she freezes slightly before starting towards it. She rounds the chipped, brass-edged case, and puts her forearm to her mouth, her hand still gripping the bottle of blood, to try to hold back a scream.

She'd seen torture before. She'd seen every way a mortal body could suffer torment before the final escape of death. Sometimes, she'd even been able to bring the sufferer back to wholeness and life before they crossed to the side safe from pain. But she'd never seen how an immortal could suffer...how the escape was limited so that the agony could be drawn into forever.

Max lay there, staked. The rest of what had been done to him left Andy shaking with reaction. As shock turns to anger, a flood of adrenaline pushes away her own pain and she kneels next to him. She sets the bottles of blood on the gore-stained floor next to her knee, and looks compassionately into Max's ruined face. His eyes stare, dark grey, and shadowed with desperation. She leaves the stake alone for the moment, as she gently begins to pull a variety of silver objects from his body. The flesh surrounding each item has begun to putrefy, the antiseptic effects of the silver counteracting the virus sustaining the tissues. Grimly she puts torn muscles and organs back where they belong until she could do no more for him. She takes a deep breath, ignoring the sharp jab of the damaged rib, and painfully pulls his head and shoulders into her lap. She picks up a bottle, uncorks it and presses the rim to Max's lips. "I pray you can hear me. Drink this, don't try to eat me, my blood will kill you." She reaches gingerly for the stake with the other hand, and pulls it out quickly.

Max's body convulses. Andy drops the stake and wraps her now free arm around Max's head, pulling him down into her lap. The shuddering stops, and his eyes, now bleached nearly white, turn up to her. He blinks, and tears trickle down bloodied cheeks. "Make it stop," he mouths, inaudible.

Andy feels her own eyes fill in response to his pain, "Drink first. Don't give up, yet." She tilts the bottle to force some of the blood past his lips.

He swallows, brow wrinkling as the torn tissues of his throat move involuntarily. Blood trickles from his neck and Andy moves her hand from his forehead to his throat and she pinches closed the rent in his esophagus. She blinks back tears of anger, fear, and frustration as she _reaches_ for a bit of strength to at least take a little of his pain from him. She rages internally at her helplessness...If he were only alive, she could heal him, but as he was she can only hope the blood was enough.

Max continues to drink, slowly. Minutes pass as the level in the bottle gradually decreases. But with each swallow, Andy can feel a slight decrease in the drain on her strength as his pain eases. As the bottle finally empties, she can see the first real signs of healing as his skin begins to seal along the long cuts on his abdomen and chest. She drops the empty bottle and it rolls across the floor to 'clink' against the base of the counter. She uncorks the second bottle and feels a tiny upwelling of hope as Max lifts his head slightly from her thighs to reach it. He drinks, much more normally, and empties the bottle quickly. He whines a little as she pulls it from his lips, "More?"

Andy smiles down at him in relief. "I'll get you some, soon. Let that settle, okay?"

He closes his eyes, and nods slightly.

Andy gently slides his shoulders off her knees, and lays him flat on the floor. She stands, and feels the room spin slightly around her. _Not yet, damn it._ She grits her teeth until the vertigo passes, and moves to the telephone by the cash register. She picks up the handset and dials out Mick's cell number. _Please be okay enough to pick up. Please?_

"St. John." Mick's voice is rougher than normal.

"Thank God. Are you okay?" Andy sags against the counter.

"I will be." A note of concern creeps into his tone, "You?"

"I'll be fine, but Max isn't. Is there anyone you could trust to send out here? With blood, and maybe willing to straighten the place up a little?" Andy looks over her shoulder; Max lies still, but most of his wounds have closed.

"The Cleaner." He mutters something away from the phone, then, "Josef just called her. She'll be there in ten minutes."

"Good. I'll stay with him until she gets here." Andy pauses, "Unless it'd be better if I don't?"

"Don't worry. The Cleaner knows about you." Mick coughs slightly, "Because I told her, Josef. Sorry about that, Andy. Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yeah." Movement outside the shop windows catches her attention, "I need to go; I'd better lock the shop until the Cleaner gets here. Thanks."

"Be careful." Mick's voice is quiet.

"I will. Bye." Andy drops the phone to it's cradle and limps around the counter towards the door. She flips the worn sign on the door to "Closed" and the thumb lock for the deadbolt just as a man of middling height, wearing a red windbreaker, steps out of the shadowed street into the light shining through the window spilling onto the sidewalk just outside the shop.

Andy stiffens in surprise, turning the bloody side of her face away from the man and pinning her wings tightly to her back.

"Hey, I need to talk to Max. Open up." The man raps on the door.

Andy swallows down her nerves. "I'm sorry. The shop's closed." She points at the sign.

"Max never closes before sunrise. Open up." He pulls the handle, rattling the door.

"He's closed tonight. Sorry." She backs away, hoping desperately that the man leaves before noticing the blood, the wings, and the body behind the teapots.

"Excuse me, you'll have to leave." A rich contralto, muffled only slightly by passing through the panes of glass, makes both the unfortunate man and Andy jump. A woman, her hair braided elegantly on top of her head and wearing a patent leather bodice and boots, appears behind the erstwhile customer.

He spins towards her, gapes a moment, then leers, "Honey, the only way I'm gonna leave now is with you."

"That can be arranged. Sam, would you take care of this little distraction?" A tall, lithe woman glides into Andy's view and puts a hand on the man's elbow.

"Hey!" He struggles, no more effectively than a hooked fish, as Sam cocks her head at the first woman.

"Whatever is necessary." The first woman turns back to Andy, as Sam removes the squealing man. Her eyes flick over Andy, and the shop, obviously missing nothing. "Well. Are you going to unlock the door, or will I have to add a new lock to Josef's bill?"

Andy eases back towards the door and reaches for the lock with a trembling hand, "Can I assume you're the Cleaner?"

"If I can assume the wings mean you're Lady Hawk." She folds her arms across her chest.

"Right." Andy flips the lock and backs away from the door quickly.

The corners of the Cleaner's mouth quirk up a bit, and she dips her head in acknowledgment of Andy's nervous retreat. "Easy, young one, you've proven yourself to me and mine." She steps through the door gracefully, raising an eyebrow at Andy. "Josef's still on the fence, though, and after my bill tonight, you may want to avoid him for a bit."

"I-I'll keep that in mind." Andy winces at the nerves easily audible in her voice.

The Cleaner smiles widely, moving past her and disappearing into the back of the shop.

Andy frowns and begins to follow. Before she passes the counter, the Cleaner reappears, followed by a handful of people. Andy freezes in place as the Cleaner's crew disperse through the shop and quickly begin setting the place to rights. The Cleaner and a delicately-built woman move towards Max, and Andy cautiously joins them, eying the two men busying themselves with the corpse by the porcelain.

"He's going to be okay, honey," the petite woman smiles encouragingly as she unzips the cover from a cooler.

"Thank God." Andy sinks down onto her heels and leans against the cabinet. Her wings fold awkwardly, and she winces as the feathers pull at the dried blood of several long cuts.

The Cleaner glances over towards Andy and frowns, "I'm not so sure about you, though. Mouse, give me that." She puts her hand out for the bag of blood the petite woman had just pulled from the cooler. Mouse hands it to her, "See what you can do for the guardian."

Andy stiffens, "I'm fine."

"Pardon my crudeness, but that's bullshit." Mouse reaches for Andy's chin and pulls her head to the right. "This is going to need stitches and I can hear that rib scrape as you breathe." She stands, "I'll be right back, I've got to get the kit from the van." She turns and disappears into the back of the shop before Andy can object.

The Cleaner chuckles, "I think Mouse is excited to patch you up. Not much call for her nursing skills in this line of work." She bends her attention back to Max as he finishes the the bag. "Here you go." She starts a new one and he drinks gratefully.

Mouse reappears, carrying a duffel. She drops it next to Andy and unzips it, pulling out assorted first aid supplies. "First thing, let's get the rib stabilized before you puncture a lung. Sit up."

Andy complies, pushing herself away from the cabinet and onto her knees. She pulls her wings out of the way as best she can.

Mouse lifts her shirt and grimaces. "I forgot how ugly broken bones look on a human. Okay, take as deep a breath as you can and hold it."

Andy nods, wincing.

Mouse begins wrapping some wide gauze tightly around her ribs just below her bra. "How'd this happen, anyway?"

Andy glances towards the Cleaner before answering, "I got ambushed by the bastard that did all this. I definitely lost."

Mouse frowns up at her, "You're alive. Wouldn't call that losing, exactly. Not if you were up against," she glances over to Max and swallows, "that."

"Well, it's still alive, too." Andy looks away. _And at least one more person died because of that. Not __to mention Mick and Max._

"There. That's the best I can do with the rib. Better?" Mouse drops the end of the gauze back into the duffel and pulls out a suture pack.

"Yeah." Andy takes a breath, "Quite a bit, actually."

"Good, 'cause _this_ is going to sting." Mouse smiles ruefully as she pours some alcohol onto a cotton pad. Andy winces as she begins cleaning the blood from the gash on her temple. "Sheesh. This is a nice one." Andy grits her teeth as Mouse begins stitching it closed. "Sorry. I'll be quick."

Mercifully, she's true to her word, and finishes in just a few moments. Andy hisses through her teeth as the sharp throbbing of the sutures begins to ease. "Nothing else needs stitched. Okay?"

Mouse chuckles, "I'd do the deep one on your wing, but it's up to you."

"It can scar. Just clean it up a little." Andy relaxes the wing and Mouse pulls it into her lap.

"I can probably get a few butterflies to stick." She frowns, "But I don't know what to do about all the feathers."

Andy smiles, "Wouldn't expect you to, you aren't a vet. Pull them out."

"Really?" Mouse looks up at Andy quizzically. "Won't that hurt?"

"Yep. It will." Andy reaches for the edge of the cut and yanks a few feathers herself.

"Okay then." Mouse begins stripping bloody feathers from the edge of the laceration with surprising expertise.

Wincing, Andy whispers, "You're good at that."

"Well, I plucked more than a few chickens in my time. This isn't so different. There you go." She wipes the cut with some alcohol and begins applying a row of butterfly bandages.

Max's gravelly voice startles Andy. "Hawk lady, there's something you need to know."

Andy turns her head so fast, the room keeps spinning as she tries to focus on the old vampire. "What is it, Max?"

"That...thing. When he thought I was going to die. He told me what they was planning. They're going to bring another demon. After he opens up the magic under the hills for the witch."

Andy closes her eyes, feeling wave of quiet anger overcome her. "When?"

"Soon. He didn't say exactly, but he did say where." Max slowly sits up, the Cleaner frowns and lifts his shoulders.

Andy feels her lip curl as she opens her eyes and fastens her gaze onto Max's face.

His eyes glitter, "By the radio towers in Baldwin Hills."

Andy looks at the Cleaner, "Is there some way you could arrange a ride for me to Mick's place?"

The Cleaner raises an eyebrow at her, "I'm going to have to put it on Josef's bill."

Andy slowly smiles at her, "Make sure it's itemized."


	11. Chapter 11

Josef looks up as the door swings open. "Mick. Where have you been?"

Mick sighs, "Just had something I needed to do." He drops his sunglasses onto the sofa table and shrugs off his duster.

"Don't you mean 'someone'?" Josef leans back in his chair and crosses his legs.

"Wha...? It's not like that! And what the hell are you doing here, anyway?" Mick frowns at a slight sound from the couch. He lowers his voice, "Shouldn't you be sleeping in a freezer somewhere?"

"Actually, it would be the vampire that got squashed like a little bug last night that should be in a freezer." Josef stands and moves to the kitchen, "But instead, you're running around in the sun." He pulls a glass from the shelf, and turns to the refrigerator panel.

"Leave it alone, all right?" Mick growls as he stalks into the living room. He frowns down at the sofa where Andy was still sleeping under the little throw. She lay on her left side, one wing awkwardly up against the back of the couch and the other trailing onto the floor.

"She's been like that since I got here. If it weren't for the fact that she snores every now and then, I wouldn't be able to tell that she's alive." Josef pulls out a bag of blood with a grimace and begins squeezing it into the glass.

"Right. The heartbeat isn't helpful." Mick raises an eyebrow at him, "If the blood disgusts you so much, why do you insist on drinking it?"

"I don't intend to. This is for you. What with the dancing with sunbeams whilst visiting little reporters the morning after a near death-for-real experience, you need a hearty breakfast." Josef walks into the living room and hands him the glass with a small bow. "What did you have to say to her that was so important, anyway?"

Mick bites his lip and looks away a moment. "I just wanted to tell her...about Coraline."

Josef stares at him with his eyebrows raised. "Damn. Not one to gently test the waters, are you? Just jump right in." He blinks and shakes his head. "Did you at least look to see if there were jagged rocks in the bottom of the pond, first?"

"I wanted her to know that I trusted her. With everything that's going on, it seemed important." Mick turns his back on Josef and swallows down half the glass.

"Of course you trust her. It's what you do. At least you've been watching _her_ for twenty-two years." He steps into Mick's peripheral vision and gestures at the couch, "I still have no explanation for this."

Mick grinds his teeth before responding, "So. What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Ryder came up with an address for the phone number whoever-it-was gave to Max." Josef pulls a slip of yellow paper from the breast pocket of his suit coat and holds it out.

"Really? So it was a land line?" Mick takes it from him. "Another working-class neighborhood. What's up with these people?"

"I guess a nine to five job really does drive you crazy." He smiles, "Wait. You work evenings."

"Why didn't you just call me with this information, Josef?" Mick asks, ignoring the sally.

"You're no fun, you know." Josef glances at Andy, "I wanted to check on you."

"Me?" Mick's eyes narrow, "I was fine when you left. What would make you think that would change in," he glances at his watch, "just under six hours?"

"Fine." Josef folds his arms, "I wanted to talk to the guardian."

"So why don't you wake her and talk?" Mick downs the rest of the glass and turns towards the kitchen.

Josef grabs his arm, "I can't."

"Why the hell not?" Mick frowns at him. "If you're afraid she's going to do something to you when she wakes up, throw a pillow at her from across the room or something."

"It's not that." He drops his hand to his side. "Forget it. Look, we all need some more sleep before this afternoon. Give me a call when you're ready to head out."

"Whoa." Mick puts a hand on Josef's shoulder. "You're not getting away that easy. What did you want?"

Josef looks up, for a moment Mick sees a twenty year old kid looking out from those ancient eyes. "I said forget it, Mick."

Mick frowns, but takes a step back. "Okay." _Not really. What's going on?_

Josef smiles and blinks, and the mask is firmly back in place. "So, do we have a plan?"

"I guess check out this address, and we'll definitely be staking out the radio towers tonight." Mick shrugs, "Haven't really had a chance to plan yet. Andy basically fell over within minutes of that crew member of the Cleaner's dropping her off."

"And handing me the bill. That was cute." Josef flicks an imaginary bit of dust from his sleeve. "You know...this is your case. I think you ought to be responsible for the charges."

"Hey, you called her. Caller pays." Mick grins.

Josef shoots him a dirty look just as the door bell buzzes. Both vampires frown at the surveillance monitor, showing a nondescript delivery man holding a small box. Mick strides to the door and glances over his shoulder at Josef who shrugs.

Mick opens the door cautiously and the man outside looks up with a bored expression, "Have a package for..." He frowns, "A 'Mari Owens'?"

From the couch, Andy coughs, "That's for me, Mick."

The delivery man holds up an electronic signing pad, "Don't matter who signs for it."

Mick glances at the couch, Andy's pulled the throw up to better cover her wings but otherwise hasn't moved. "Okay." He scratches out his name and the man hands him the box and turns to walk briskly away down the hall. Mick shuts the door, looking curiously at the box in his hand.

Andy pushes herself upright with a groan. "Technically it's for you, you can open it."

Josef sits down on one of the easy chairs opposite the couch. "Mari?"

"What part of 'mom was Welsh' don't you get? It's my middle name. 'Owens' was my mother's maiden name." Andy snaps.

"Easy, Andy." Mick steps around the couch, and gives Josef a sharp look, "He didn't mean anything by that."

"Whatever." She closes her eyes, and Mick is startled to see a tear slide down her cheek.

"Hey. What's wrong?" He gingerly perches on the edge of the couch next to her.

She frowns and wipes her cheek roughly with the heel of her hand before glancing over to him. For the tiniest moment, Mick feels a hint of desperation laced with pain before it cuts off with the suddenness of a switch. She smiles slightly, "It's just this damn rib is excruciating this morning. Sorry."

"Oh." Mick sets the package on the coffee table and stands. "The woman that dropped you off last night left something for that." He walks to the kitchen and picks up a plastic bag containing a vial and a few syringes and needles.

Josef clears his throat, "About that. I thought you said your bones don't break."

Mick frowns at him, "Let her be, Josef."

Andy rearranges her wings awkwardly. "I don't care, Mick, it's all right." She looks tiredly at Josef, "Normally, they don't. But it's only because I've got an odd crystal running through them that I can pull out and manifest as a sword."

"That, I've seen first hand." Mick holds the bag out to her. "Scared the hell out of me when you did it, too. I thought you were going to kill me."

Her expression softens a bit. "Sorry. I couldn't think of any other way to get you off that thing." She takes the bag and examines the label on the vial. "Morphine? My God, I could kiss her."

Both Josef and Mick stare. Josef is the first to recover, "Um. Isn't that a bit strong?"

Andy looks up. "Strong enough it might last more than a few minutes. Haven't you wondered how I haven't yet gotten drunk with all the Scotch around here?"

Mick frowns, it hadn't really occurred to him to wonder about that. "Now that you mention it, I guess so."

"I think it's from the," she pauses with an uncomfortable look at Josef, "supernatural critter part of me."

"Right." Mick sits in the chair next to Josef. "So it's always there?"

"Yeah. I really pray that I never have to have surgery. No anesthesia or sedative lasts very long, and to have any effect at all, there's got to be a lot of it." She shrugs, "At least it makes it hard to catch me. Those tranquilizer darts sting like hell, though."

Mick blinks, _I'm not sure I really want to know what's happened that she knows that..._

Josef shakes his head, "That still doesn't explain the broken rib."

Andy looks up from filling a syringe, "When the sword is in my hand, it isn't in my bones. So they can break, then. Good enough?" She expertly slides the needle into the vein on the side of her wrist and injects the morphine. She sets the syringe onto the coffee table a little too carefully and leans back against the couch with a sigh.

Mick leans a little sideways and cocks his head at her, "You okay?"

She chuckles, "Am now. Y'gonna open your box?"

Josef lifts both eyebrows, probably at Andy's slight slurring, "You had better do what the drugged guardian wants, Mick."

"Go t'hell, Josef." She whispers.

Mick closes his eyes as he shakes his head, reaching for the little package. "Don't piss off the drugged guardian, Josef." He snaps the packing tape and pulls out a silk drawstring bag.

Josef chuckles, "Awww. That's cute. Presents. Pretty soon I'll be walking you two down the aisle."

Mick hears Andy echo his growl, "Seriously. Shut up." He unties the string and fishes out the contents of the bag. He frowns at the two charms on black silk cords in his palm. The charms appear to be complex knots carved out of some translucent black stone.

"One of 'em's for you, Josef." Andy focuses on the older vampire across the room with slightly glassy eyes. "Though, I'd be perfectly happy if you don't want to wear it. Give me a great excuse to kill you 'f a demon decides to possess your sorry carcass."

Mick stifles a grin at Andy's morphine-induced lack of tact. "Here." He holds the charm out to Josef.

Josef snatches it from him, "So. What's keeping you from having one of them crawl inside _your _skin?"

She blinks and pulls down the edge of her shirt collar to reveal a small tattoo just below her collarbone. "This's mostly 'just in case'. I can keep 'em out of my head the same way I can keep you out."

"Yeah. You do a wonderful job with that." Josef hisses, eyes flashing slightly.

Mick glances between the two of them, "Um. Josef?"

"I won't exactly have to try to get one of the bastards to wake up 'cause he's scared of the dark, either." Andy sits up.

"Scared of the dark? You were going to fucking lose us both in there!" Josef drops the charm on the side table.

"And if I hadn't had the courage to try, Mick would have died. It's not my fault that you're afraid to die because of all of the shit you've done over the years." Andy's now leaning forward, her hands clenched into fists.

Josef's voice lowers into a quiet growl, "And it's not my fault that you're afraid to live because of all of the lies you've told 'over the years'."

Mick stands with both hands out between the two. "Stop it! Now! Both of you!"

They ignore him, glaring at each other. Josef's visage pales along with his eyes and he takes a step towards Andy. Mick turns his back to her, stepping fully in front of Josef to block him. "I said, stop it!"

Josef glances up at him, "Not this time, Mick."

A low rumbling growl from behind Mick puts the hair up on his neck. Josef focuses at something waist level behind him and snarls back. Mick looks over his shoulder to see a _large_ pale-grey wolf, ears pinned and teeth bared at Josef.

Mick turns around, feeling as if he were moving at half-speed as Josef launches himself at Andy. "No!"

Andy's ears flick briefly at Mick, before she meets Josef's lunge with a snarl. She grabs Josef's forearm with her teeth as he tries to strike her and shakes him, sending him sliding across the slick floor and into a bookshelf. Mick only makes it three steps towards his downed friend before Andy's already flashed across the room and has her mouth open across Josef's neck, her canines denting the skin over his jugular veins. Josef hits her across the ribs and her eyes clench shut as she snarls at him.

_Hit me again, and I won't be able to hold it back._ Her mental voice is almost unrecognizable; feral anger laced with pain.

Mick freezes, but Josef snarls wordlessly up at her.

_Not fun not being the strongest, is it? _Andy pants down over Josef, teeth still poised on his throat. _I don't need magic to kill you. I can do it just like you've killed countless others. _

"And that's why you'd do it? To revenge all the people I've killed?" Josef hisses.

_Right now? No. I'd do it because I want to. _ Her teeth twitch.

Mick takes a step closer, "Don't..."

She growls, glancing at him from the corner of her eye and Mick freezes again.

"Then do it." Josef reaches up and grabs fistfuls of the thick fur on her neck. He shakes her a little, eliciting another growl. "I said do it! Kill me."

_Why?_ Nothing changes in her pose.

"Why not? You can. I can't stop you. Go ahead." Josef shakes her again.

_That's why I can't._ Andy lifts her head and closes her mouth but stays standing over Josef, his fists buried in her fur.

"What? You felt free to rape my life from me. Why leave it at that? Take it all!" Josef snaps his teeth at her throat, but Andy ducks out of the way of his fangs easily, and he's left with only two fistfuls of her coat.

She steps back over him, ears pinned, _I had no idea you were frightened enough that your memories would be so close to the surface. I didn't mean to see what I saw. _

"Why doesn't matter. You saw it all. You know." He hisses the last.

_And so I'm supposed to kill you?_ Andy's ears relax forward a bit.

"You're a fucking guardian! How can you leave me alive?" Josef's voice cracks, and Mick flinches from the sound.

She looks down at him for a very long time.

Mick frowns and risks coming closer. "Please stop."

Andy eyes flick sideways at him, then back down to Josef. _This is why, Josef._ Her eyes begin to glow dark blue. Mick catches only the edges of images that were undoubtedly hitting Josef full-force: A man screaming as his guts spill out from under her teeth; a valley filled with the chaos of screams and clashing metal suddenly silent, at least fifty thousand people crushed to dust; a woman crying as Andy walks away from a tiny limp form on blood-slicked pavement; the cries of dozens ringing in her ears as she escapes into the safety of the blackness as the huge building collapses; a man screaming for her to stop as she walks towards a half-dozen others in military uniform, hands glowing with power as bullets incandesce on her shields. On and on, the images of moments of revenge, failure, rage, and hate flash by almost too fast for Mick to absorb, then suddenly it stops. Andy backs away from Josef and her eyes fade back to bluish-grey.

Josef sits up, slowly, and his face transforms back to human. He blinks a few times, then glances between Andy and Mick. "I still don't like you."

Andy snorts, _Then I guess we're even._

Mick puts a hand out to Josef, who takes it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. His hand is sticky with blood, and Mick compresses his lips in frustration. "Are you both done?"

Andy's ears go back, and she drops her head in surprisingly classic lupine submission.

Mick raises an eyebrow at her, the full effect of 'I can become a wolf' hitting him suddenly. The creature in front of him was Andy, yet at the same time, wasn't. "Josef?"

"Don't." Josef's tone is sharp, his expression a warning.

"Then go clean yourself up." Mick turns to Andy. "Now what?"

She turns towards him, claws clicking slightly on the hardwood. _I either need to sleep a few hours or some more morphine before I can shift back. _Her eyes follow Josef as he stalks to the kitchen.

Mick shakes his head at the odd effect of Andy's voice inside his skull but bypassing his ears. The additional information laced through the words is much stronger with her attention directed to him than when she was 'speaking' to Josef, and he winces at the intimacy of it. _Embarrassment, guilt, the undercurrent of anger and regret...Pain. Frustration. Loneliness. _Mick stares at her as she limps past him. "Wait."

She stops and looks over her shoulder. The cut on her face has broken open. Blood trickles past her eye to soak into the fur on her throat.

Mick approaches her slowly. "That's not what I meant." He sinks down on his heels, unable to resist running his eyes over her in curiosity.

She sighs and turns towards him. Her head cocks, bemused exasperation preceding her words, _So what did you mean?_

"I..." Mick stops, suddenly unsure.

She waits a moment, then takes a slow step towards him. She pokes his hand with her nose. _I really don't know, Mick._ She pauses, and sits on her haunches, echoing his pose. _I don't know what's going to happen, whether any of us are going to see tomorrow. _The feeling of embarrassment peaks, _Maybe that's why we had to hash that out._ She looks away, ears flattening sideways, and towards where Josef is drying his hands, suit jacket abandoned, and sleeves rolled up.

He drops the towel on the counter and looks up at Mick and Andy. "What?"

Mick glances at him, then Andy's voice whispers in his head, _I didn't let him hear that last._

"Oh." Mick pushes himself to his feet, "Nothing, Josef. You need something to drink?"

"I'll wait." He avoids eye contact, "Call when you're ready to go."

"Okay." Mick leans against the table.

Josef picks up his ruined jacket and pulls his keys from his pocket. He goes to the door, putting his hand on the handle before pausing. He glances in Andy's direction, and frowns.

She stands and moves towards him. She stops a foot from him and looks up. Silence, both inside and outside Mick's head, stretches for a few moments.

Josef nods sharply and pulls the door open. He steps out the door, pulling it shut behind him without a word.

Andy stares after him briefly and turns back to Mick. She paces slowly into the room and sinks down onto the carpet in front of the sofa.

Mick pushes himself away from the table and sits in the easy chair facing her.

She puts her head on her paws.

Mick puts his chin on his hand.

The clock ticks in the silence.


	12. Chapter 12

Something brushes the edge of her consciousness, delicate, like the fluttering of a moth's wing. A scent, reminiscent of the forest after rain fills her nose and she opens her eyes. A hand pulls away as she lifts her head, her side spasms with pain and she lurches to her feet with a growl rumbling low in her chest. Disorientation, standing on four legs rather than two, the scent of his fear filling the room, sharpening recognition: _Vampire!_ Lip curling away from her own canines; his hazel eyes wide, afraid, shocked as he backs away from her.

_Vampire! _She stalks a step towards the monster, he stumbles away, bumping into the chair behind him. She continues forward until he's trapped into a corner, his back pressed against the geometric shelves of books along the wall.

"Andy? S-stop. It's me, Mick." His voice shakes.

_Friend?_ She shakes her head, something, a memory, tries to surface through the wolf's mind. His scent hits her again, _Vampire!_ Her chest vibrates with a growl, but the vampire stands frozen against the wall. She pauses again as memories press against the wolf's mind, _Friend? How?_

"A-Andy?" The vampire lifts a shaking hand towards her.

She freezes. _Friend? Vampire! No. Friend. _The memories flood her mind, pushing the wolf into the back of her consciousness. She staggers back from him, trembling with reaction.

"Andy?" Mick's voice is taut.

_It is now._ She looks up into his eyes and feels her ears flatten against her skull. _God, I am so sorry about that._

His eyes still wary, "What happened?"

_Your scent and my rib. I forgot who you were, could only sense the vampire. I'm sorry._ Andy drops her head and turns to limp away from him so he can move out of the corner.

A cool hand touches her shoulder; she stops. Mick steps in front of her and sinks slowly to his heels. His expression is troubled, "And me being a vampire makes you want to kill me?"

_Makes the _wolf_ want to kill you. _I _would never want to hurt you, but you have to understand that there's a part, several parts, of me that would tear you to tiny bits cheerfully._ Andy closes her eyes at the pain in his face.

"Josef?" His voice is hushed, almost a whisper.

_He's right. I am dangerous to you._ Andy feels her heart thudding in her chest, and she throttles down the urge to snap at Mick's hand still on her shoulder.

"Andy?"

She opens her eyes at the hurt in his tone.

His eyes are wide, a crease on his forehead. "That's not what I meant. How did you stop from killing him, earlier?"

With difficulty, she holds his gaze with her own, _Because he didn't deserve to die. And it would have hurt you. _She feels a scrap of humor well up, _And I refuse to let him win._

Mick blinks, and a smile creeps onto his face, "You are...impossible."

_Last time I looked, you were the myth._ Andy sidles out from under his hand. _Don't we have some demon-hunting to do?_

He sighs, "I guess so," and pushes himself to his feet. He looks down, "Josef's excuse for stopping by earlier was that he had another address from Ryder."

_His excuse?_ Andy cocks her head up at Mick.

He smiles. "Yeah. He did admit that he was actually here to talk to you."

_Really? That's unexpected._ Andy pauses, thinking, _Wonder what he was hoping would come of that?_

"I'm guessing your teeth on his throat _wasn't_ part of the plan." He snickers.

_Probably not._ Andy's relieved that blushing wasn't part of the physiology of the wolf. _Should we check it out?_

"I think so." He walks smoothly towards the desk in the adjoining office.

Andy limps after him, rib and torn muscles protesting each step.

He looks over his shoulder, "Are you going to be okay?"

_Don't worry about me._ Her thought continues, internally: _What the hell am I going to do? I'm going to pass out if I try to shift back. Damn Josef. Damn my own stupidity. _

"Do you want more morphine?" He continues to frown at her.

_Not really. Won't help._ She clenches her teeth together in frustration at her own weakness. _You ready to go?_

He raises an eloquent eyebrow at her question.

_Yes, like this. You'd be surprised at how many people will think I'm your dog._ She glares at him.

He coughs, the sound suspiciously like a quickly suppressed laugh. "Okay." He picks up a small piece of paper from his desk and heads for the door, grabbing his keys and sunglasses from the small table by the glass door. He holds the door open for her to stalk stiffly through and they pace down the hall to the elevator. He leans casually against the wall, his expression speculative. "So. Are you...stuck like that?"

Andy closes her eyes briefly, and sighs. _It _really _hurts to shift broken bones. I'm just not willing to try to force that right now._

"Josef?" He steps into the elevator and puts his hand out to hold the door.

Andy pads in, _When did his name become a question all by itself?_

Mick chuckles.

_Fine. _Andy sits as the elevator sinks with a hiss of gears. _ I was pissed, and between that and the morphine, it was merely excruciating._

"Actually, I was wondering why you shifted at all." Mick's lips twitch.

_I really didn't want to have to kill him._ She continues at his frown, _I'd have had to do something drastic if I stayed human. The wolf is strong enough to stop him without killing him._

"Seemed like it was close anyway." He steps off the lift into the dim garage.

Andy follows, _It was._

He looks down at her sharply, but merely opens the Mercedes' door for her.

She jumps into the front seat, then squeezes into the back and lies down with a wince.

Entirely too soon, the Mercedes eases to a curb and stops. Andy raises her head from her paws and blinks. _Did I fall asleep, again?_

"Yeah." Mick flips the collar of his coat up against the late afternoon sunlight and pushes the car door open, unfolding his lanky frame from the seat. He gestures at Andy to follow.

Andy awkwardly negotiates the space between the front seats and hops down onto the cracked pavement of the aging subdivision. Mick moves cautiously towards a house, faded sage stucco chipping slightly to reveal bright pink below, alone at the end of a long cul-de-sac. Mick had parked so that the Mercedes was pointing away from their target and behind an overgrown bougainvilla climbing a power pole. The house was at the very edge of the quiet subdivision, the only activity in the neighborhood being a homeowner mowing two blocks away in the opposite direction. Andy trots next to Mick as he strides silently along the street, the movement beginning to loosen the stiffness from her abused muscles. His thigh-length coat flaps slightly with each step, fanning the ancient-damp-forest-scent of him at her periodically. She clenches her jaw on the growl it elicits from the wolf and drops her head to put her nose to better use. As they approach the house, the expected mix of scents--grease, rubber, spilled soda, old sneakers--on the pavement suddenly stops.

_Wait._

Mick freezes, mid-step. "What is it?"

Andy lifts her head, _Can you smell it?_

He takes a deep breath, eyes closing briefly. He looks down at her, "Sorry, no. What is it?"

_The smells stop here._ She lowers her head, scanning the ground hoping for a tell-tale. _This house is shielded._

"What does that mean?" Mick's question is quiet, and Andy's ears twitch to catch it.

She spots the nearly invisible thread. _Gotcha._ Her eyes flare as she invokes her ability to see energy. A wavering wall superimposes itself on her vision. _And you suck at shielding, my dear._ A tiny spark of hope brightens her already glowing eyes. She turns to Mick, _What that means is that the guardian is hiding something here. And the fact that she's using a physical anchor for the shield means she can't see the energy._

"I'm guessing that's a good thing?" Mick's tone makes it a question.

_Very good. _Andy's lip curls away from her teeth, _Because I _can. Andy turns and trots just outside the undulating curtain of energy. _Stay to my right._

"What are we looking for?" Mick eyes her curiously as he jogs to keep up.

_A door._ Andy moves with her nose nearly brushing the ground, searching.

Mick's forehead furrows, "Can you elaborate?"

_She can't see her own shield. She'd set off her own alarms and have to put the whole thing up every time someone comes in or out. _Andy's ears prick and she stops. _So. A door._

A tiny crystal bead glitters like an unusually persistent dewdrop at the end of the silk thread. A two-foot line of salt fills the gap and another crystal begins the rest of the circle. Mick sinks to his heels with an almost inaudible whistle at the back of his throat. He looks up and his eyes sweep the area. "What does it look like?"

_Touch me._ Andy shoves the wolf as far down in her consciousness as she can before opening her mind to him, a little.

His cool hand trembles a little as he touches her neck. He gasps and stares, eyes wide. He blinks rapidly then pulls his hand away. He frowns, and touches her again. "That's...Crazy doesn't do this justice." He looks intently at the gap in the shield. "Is it thinner here?

_Yep._ Andy studies the patterns in the swirls of energy and has to clamp her teeth together against a bark of excitement. _I could kiss Josef right now._

Mick's brow knits into an expression of complete confusion.

_The shield is set against demons, humans, and vamps. _Andy's eyes gleam in anticipation.

"And that's good, why?" Mick shakes his head vaguely.

_It's not set against animals._ She takes a step towards the pulsing barrier.

"Wait." His hand closes convulsively on her fur, "Alone?"

_Sorry, I should have explained. From the inside, I can re-key the shield to let you in the 'door' without her knowing. You'll still be able to see me. _Andy cocks her head at him, _So you can let go now._

His hand doesn't let her go, "It's too easy."

_Not really._ Andy eases closer to the tense vampire to relieve the uncomfortable tug on her ruff, and sinks to her haunches. _The construction of this shield gives me a lot of information about the guardian's skills. She's messing with energy blind, using witchcraft and other rituals to do what she's doing. Using death to raise energy and objects to store it. _She feels a surge of rage press against her precarious hold on humanity as the image of the little boy she'd already failed flickers in her mind. She throttles down on it, clenching her teeth together violently.

Mick's eyes widen and he freezes.

Andy glances at him, confused.

He very slowly releases his hold on her fur and drops his hand to his side.

_Sorry. That wasn't directed at you._ Andy's ears flatten sideways with embarrassment and she re-assembles her mental barriers.

"I know. Go on."

His continued stiff caution makes Andy sigh. _I really can control myself, you know._ She turns back to the shield, _So she can't do things the way I can. It's like using a chainsaw to carve a sculpture; you kind of lose the finer points. She _could _set this shield to keep everything out, but then it would be sending her alarms every time a mouse wandered by. I'm running on the assumption that she's no more comfortable taking her alternative forms than I am, so she's probably doing the same with me. The way this shield is keyed, I think it's a good guess._

"But Josef got you stuck as a wolf..." Mick frowns.

And_ she can't know that I can read her shield. But I still am grateful for Josef's timing. I wouldn't have been able to force myself through the shift without the impetus of..._

"His persistent stupidity?" Mick's lips twitch upward.

_You said it, not me._ Andy stands, _So can I go now?_

"What happens when we are on the other side?" Mick stands slowly.

_We'll be able to see what she's got hidden inside, then we decide what we do about it. _Andy cocks her head, _If it's bad enough, we go get backup._

"Oh, okay." Mick looks relieved.

Andy snorts slightly at him and turns to trot gingerly across the barrier, senses stretched to their utmost, but the wavering curtain of energy doesn't even flutter. She pauses, scanning the area. Her heart stops briefly at what hits her mind and nose. She whips her head towards Mick, deftly wrenching the shield open to him, _Now!_ Incoherent with anger and the need to stay in control, the word is more an image of him coming than an actual recognizable piece of the English language.

Mick darts through the 'door', and Andy drops the shield back in place. He skids to a stop next to her and his head snaps up and his eyes pale immediately. He glances down at her and Andy feels her lip pull back in an answering snarl.

They turn and stalk silently towards the house, the scent of the blood of two children filling their minds with an equal rage.


	13. Chapter 13

As they approach, Mick ducks to stay under the easy view of the windows on the side of the house. He glances at Andy moving silently next to him. Her ears flick towards him, _The kids are still alive. Barely._

Mick's breath catches in his chest, "Anyone else?"

_I can hear two other minds; one is awake, guarding. The other is...not. _They ease up onto the tiny front porch.

"Can you tell..." Mick begins.

Andy interrupts, _The conscious one is human. I can't tell what the other is. The children don't have much time._

"Enough?" Mick slowly turns the doorknob, and it clicks open under his hand.

_Not to deal with whatever is asleep._ Andy crouches, every muscle bunched visibly under her fur.

"In and out?" Mick breathes, inaudible even to himself.

_Yeah. Grab the kids, they're about ten feet inside and slightly to the left._

Mick glances down with a frown, "But..."

Andy lifts a front paw, _Do you see thumbs?_

"Oh. Right." Mick tenses, "Ready?"

She nods, eyes narrowed.

Mick opens the door, Andy darts past him as soon as it's wide enough for her to pass and leaps silently towards a dark-haired man.

Mick turns his head away from the about-to-be-dead man, instead focusing on the two little limp forms on a table shoved against a wall. He clenches his jaw violently at the blood congealing in a variety of containers on the floor. He gently scoops the two tiny bodies from the stained Formica and presses them to his chest. Andy is already waiting at the door and Mick runs flat out past her and towards the 'door' in the shield. She catches up, passing him, and he follows right on her tail all the way to the Mercedes.

She spins as they reach the car and stares down the road, hackles raised along her shoulders. Mick shifts his entirely too still burdens to one arm and wrenches the car door open. He yanks the seat forward and lays the children onto the back seat. Andy jumps lightly into the car as soon as he steps back and immediately touches one with a paw and the other with her muzzle. Her eyes begin to glow a dark emerald, and Mick pushes the seat back and slides in. He jams the key into the ignition and his foot down on the accelerator. He glances behind the quickly accelerating car but nothing appears changed at the house they just raided.

He shifts his attention to the awkwardly hunched canine in his back seat, "Are they going to be okay?"

_Drive to the closest hospital._ Her mental voice sounds as if it is coming from the bottom of a well.

Mick yanks the wheel sharply to the left, the old car fishtailing around the corner and silently thanks his eighty-odd years as a resident of Los Angeles. The minutes tick by interminably as he swerves through neighborhoods to use the surface streets, avoiding the gridlocked freeway. Finally, bright blue 'H' signs begin to appear on the road signaling their approach to the local hospital. Mick glances again into his rear-view as the hospital looms above the neighboring buildings.

_Stop for a minute._

Mick pulls the Mercedes to the curb and twists around in his seat. Andy glances up at him, then closes her eyes. Her whole body shudders and blurs. Mick gapes at her as she gasps as her outline settles into that of a human woman. Her hands shake as she puts them on the children's foreheads, "Go ahead, up to the Emergency."

Mick winces at the raggedness of her voice, but obeys. "Are they going to be okay?"

"Yes. As long as we find a way to convince the doctors in there to let me stay in physical contact until they've received enough of a transfusion." Her face is taut.

"How are we going to do that?" Mick guides the old car into the hospital lot and right up behind an idling ambulance.

"I have no idea." Her worried, _glowing_, eyes meet his.

* * *

"God _damn_ it!"

Anna glances up from the stack of charts on the counter in front of her. Next to her, Dr. Corey drops his pen, probably in response to the curse, and Anna's hand darts out to catch it before it can roll off onto the floor. She hands it back with a half smile, and he nods in thanks.

"What is it?" One of the nurses frowns at Tom, the source of the cussing.

The security guard mumbles again before answering, "All of the cameras just went down."

"You're kidding." Dr. Corey leans over the counter, and Tom twists the monitor towards him, while punching a few keys, to no apparent effect.

Just then, a tall man, wearing a black thigh-length coat sweeps up to the desk. In his arms are two young children, limply unconscious, and next to him a woman wearing extremely dark, rectangular sunglasses clings to the children's hands.

The nurse in charge of triage stands, "Can I help you?"

The man responds, "They've lost a lot of blood."

Anna's breath catches in her throat and she looks up at Dr. Corey. He drops his pen again and hurries around the desk. His mouth presses into a thin line, "Follow me."

Anna jogs after the doctor and the two people, deciding to take the order as an open invitation. Generally she wasn't exactly supposed to do much more than help organize charts as a third-year med student, but Dr. Corey was pretty easy-going about allowing her to observe as long as she stayed well out of the way.

"Put them down here," Dr. Corey orders, then calls out, "Get me two units of O neg, and a typing kit."

The tall man gently lays both of the kids onto the same bed and steps back. The woman in sunglasses ducks under his arm, shifting her contact from their hands to the tops of the children's heads.

Anna glances at Dr. Corey, who has begun to examine the first child. A couple of nurses arrive, and begin applying blood pressure cuffs on the children's arms and oxygen sensors on their fingers. One of the nurses looks up at the woman, "Please step back, ma'am, so we can work."

The woman doesn't move.

The nurse repeats, "Please move, ma'am."

The woman continues to ignore her and Anna bites her lip in concern.

The man takes a half-step forward, "Please let her stay."

Anna blinks at his velvety but anxious voice, and isn't surprised when the nurse nods curtly, "Fine. For now."

Suddenly, Dr. Corey snaps, "Somebody get me a machine that's working, dammit!"

Anna frowns at him, he _never_ curses. She looks at the monitor and blanches. She quickly glances at the one hooked up to the other child, and, without thinking yelps, "Dr. Corey!"

He frowns at her, "Anna you shouldn't..."

She points at the monitor with a shaking hand.

Dr. Corey's mouth sags open. Both of the monitors' readouts are nearly the same. Neither child was registering more than a negligible blood pressure, blood oxygen was below fifty percent, heart rates in the thirties.

Everyone freezes momentarily.

A technician jogs up with the blood and typing kits. "Here's what you called for."

One of the nurses reaches out to take the bags with an unsteady hand.

The woman in the sunglasses snaps, "Start the I.V.'s."

Dr. Corey's head swivels sharply towards her, "What?"

"Start the damn I.V.'s." The woman's forehead creases over the glasses.

"You need to move away from the bed." Dr. Corey straightens.

"Then they'll die." The woman whispers. "Please, just start the transfusions."

No one moves, until the woman drops her head. She looks up slowly, over the rim of the sunglasses. "Please?"

Anna's jaw drops in shock. Those warm green eyes have watched over her dreams for years. She steps dazedly up to the end of the bed. "Lady Hawk?"

The woman flinches and stares at her. As do the other five people around the bed.

Dr. Corey recovers first, "Anna?"

The woman inhales sharply, "Annaliese?"

Anna nods, takes a breath, then another. She turns to Dr. Corey, "Listen to her. She's...she can help."

Dr. Corey frowns, then glances at the monitors, which were holding steady, at the woman, the nurses standing frozen and back to Anna. "Start the I.V.'s."

The nurses pause only a moment longer, then resume working. Dr. Corey frowns at Anna, then the woman, before going back to his examination. He moves around the bed to the second child, continuing. He turns to the man standing a bit away from bed, "What happened? I can't find any wounds."

The man glances sideways at the woman, "We found them, surrounded by blood. We assumed..."

The woman interrupts, "I healed them. The wounds are the marks on their wrists."

She looks over her glasses again; Dr. Corey backs up a step. "But..."

"As soon as their blood pressure comes up, their heart rates and blood oxygen will return to normal." The woman glances towards Anna and her expression softens, a smile lifting the corner of her lips. "Good to see you again, kid."

Dr. Corey turns his head towards Anna, expression staggered, "How?"

Anna bites her lip, "Yeah. It is." Her eyes flick to Dr. Corey, "She saved me. When I was little." She looks back to the woman. "I can't believe you're real."

"Maybe I'm not." Her smile widens.

"Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" Dr. Corey growls.

The man in the corner closes his eyes and rubs his hand across his face.

The woman glances at him, lifting an eyebrow. "You might as well take your glasses back."

He reaches a long arm towards her and pulls the sunglasses off her face, folding them and slipping them into an inside pocket of his coat.

The woman turns her head back to Dr. Corey. "I'm sorry. I'm..." she pauses with a glance towards Anna, "Lady Hawk."

Anna shakes her head, "You still call yourself that?"

The woman's mouth quirks upward again, "Yeah."

"Dr. Corey." One of the nurses puts her hand on his arm.

He turns, she points to the monitors. The readings for both of the children are moving swiftly into the normal range. His brow furrows and he reaches out to take a hold of both of their wrists. He gently releases them, and puts his stethoscope to first one chest, then the other. He straightens and turns back to the woman, slowly, his face troubled.

She lifts her hands from the children's heads and steps back from the bed.

Dr. Corey requests politely, "Would you both come with me, please?" He glances over his shoulder to Anna, "You, too."

The woman edges towards the man in the black coat, "I'd really rather not."

Dr. Corey's shoulders sag, "I thought you might say that." He stares at her face until she drops her eyes and turns away. "What happened to you?"

The woman reaches the man's side, he puts his arm around her shoulders. She leans against him, "We have to leave. The kids will be fine, no brain damage. They won't remember anything, though."

The man looks sharply down at her, she smiles up at him, but there's an edge to her voice. "No nightmares." He nods and takes a step towards the exit; the woman pressed against his side.

Dr. Corey blocks his path, "Wait."

The man frowns, "We really can't. I hope you can understand why."

"I think so." Dr. Corey's voice is subdued. "But tell me just one thing, first."

The man's expression is guarded, but he pauses.

"What is she?" Dr. Corey folds his arms across his chest, his eyes fastened on the woman.

Anna steps resolutely forward, "She's an angel."

The woman stiffens, "I am not, Annaliese."

Anna smiles at her, "You might not think so, but that doesn't mean it isn't true."

The man smiles, "Good enough, doctor?"

Dr. Corey shakes his head, "Best explanation I'm going to get, I guess." He backs out of the way. "Any chance that you might have an ID on the kids?"

"Probably can get one." The man begins walking out, almost carrying the woman with him.

Dr. Corey follows and Anna trots after him. The two disappear out the exit and Dr. Corey leans against the intake desk.

Tom excitedly announces, "I got the cameras back!"

Dr. Corey slowly looks down at the security guard, then over to Anna. "What are the chances?"

Anna shrugs, "Probably about the same as getting to see your guardian angel twice in one lifetime."

"You are really going to have to share that story with me someday."

Anna lets out a breath of relief at Dr. Corey's crooked smile. "I'd be happy to."

* * *

_'kay...That's the end of the presents for now. Hope you enjoyed, I'd absolutely love to hear what you all think. (And there will be more, of course, I've just finally caught up with where I am...)_


	14. Chapter 14

I'm absolutely overwhelmed by the feedback, guys. I don't even know how to thank you. No, I'm no kind of professional writer, I'm a dog trainer and don't even have a beta or anyone at all to run this stuff by before I post it. So thank you a thousand times over, you made my day.

* * *

"That went well." Mick glances into his rear view mirror again.

Andy chuckles, "Surprisingly." She rolls her head against the head rest towards him, a grin stretching her lips, "First thing in a while. Maybe our luck has finally noticed that we're the good guys."

Mick's eyes flick towards her; he stares at the unexpected color of her irises. "What's wrong?"

Andy's brow furrows, "Nothing new, why?"

"Silver eyes?" Mick wrenches his gaze back onto the road.

"Oh. Sorry. I'm pulling energy, it's no big deal." Andy turns her head away, lifting a hand to shield her face from the wind buffeting in from the broken window.

"What does that mean, exactly?" Mick takes a deep breath, finds it useless to stifle his rising anxiety, so he presses a little harder on the accelerator and takes another look in the the side mirror.

"Relax." Andy keeps her face down, "I'm just doing the equivalent of drinking a really strong pot of coffee."

Mick frowns as he adds up hours mentally, "Shit. You haven't had anything to eat since yesterday, have you?"

"Don't worry, I'll be fine." Andy smiles a little wryly, still avoiding eye contact.

Mick presses his lips into a tight line, "Quit that." He changes lanes sharply, and pulls into a McDonald's.

Andy sighs, "This isn't necessary, Mick, I don't..."

He interrupts, "If you eat, will you be more comfortable?"

"Fine." She sighs.

A few minutes later, Andy is mechanically chewing and swallowing some squashy bun-cheese-meat-like-patty-thing, as Mick guides the Mercedes up the grade towards the hills. The thick scrubby oaks pressing close to the edge of the gently winding street are a green one shade away from black in the failing twilight. Mick pulls off the road at a small, unused, and completely overgrown old access gate, and with a wince for the old car's paint eases as far into the concealing brush as possible. Andy slithers out the broken window as soon as he cuts the engine and Mick chuckles a faint, "Thanks."

She shrugs, "Might as well try to keep you in Josef's good graces. Window's bad enough." She pushes her way through the manzanita around to the driver's side and pulls the bush back. "C'mon."

Mick opens the door just wide enough to squeeze through and closes it gently. Andy sets the branch back against the car and follows right up against Mick as he elbows his way out of the prickly scrub. When they are clear, Mick eyes the mostly concealed car critically and yanks a bush out of the hard ground and leans it up against the bumper. Satisfied, he turns towards Andy, "Josef is going to meet us by the south tower."

Andy nods, "Right."

Mick turns and begins walking up the edge of the road.

"Wait."

He stops on his heel, "What?"

Andy's eyes are closed as she takes a few sharp breaths through her teeth, "I need to shift."

Mick takes a step towards her, "But..." He stops as her outline wavers. The mirage-like effect gives him a queasy feeling as he squints at her.

The wavering stops, and she staggers a step before dropping to her knees with a hiss. She holds her ribs and pants shallowly with her eyes closed.

Mick moves to her side and sinks to his heels next to her. He reaches out gingerly, but stops and clenches his hand into a fist before touching her. "It's probably pointless to ask if you're okay. You'll just say 'yes'."

She turns her head towards him, face still pinched but with a halfhearted attempt at a smile pulling her mouth into a twisted grimace. "Pretty much."

Mick shakes his head, "How much more can you take? This is insane."

Andy pushes herself upright with her wings, her arms still wrapped around her chest, "You haven't seen me crazy yet." She takes a few more shallow breaths, then opens her eyes and looks at him, expression serene, her lips quirked up slightly. "Seriously, this is what I'm made for. Let's go." She folds her wings against her back and begins walking resolutely up the hill.

Mick hesitates, then shrugs to himself at her stubbornness. He jogs to catch up to her then slows to match her pace. "Why did you do that?"

Andy continues walking, head down. "Being the only human in this fight is going to suck. Like this, I at least pick up the goshawk's reaction time."

"Oh." Mick mulls that one a bit, "So why not go all the way? Or would that hurt too much?"

"It might. But I'm going to need hands." She sighs and looks up, but only ahead of them as the first of the radio towers comes into view behind the thick bushy trees.

Mick follows her stare, "So, are you sure that going back to the house was going to be a waste of time?"

She continues staring at the towers, "How long would it have taken you to wake up if I cut my hand in your apartment and bled all over your kitchen?"

Mick frowns sharply at the non-sequitur, "I don't know, maybe five minutes, why?"

Andy looks at him, exasperation obvious in spite of her oddly silvery eyes.

"Oh. Right." He shakes his head slightly, feeling sheepish. "So they'll have abandoned the place."

"Or booby-trapped it quite thoroughly." Andy continues flatly, "If these hills weren't so close to the strongest energy flows, I wouldn't even waste my time coming _here_. If I were them, I'd head just about anywhere else to avoid us." She smiles, "I'm counting on that, actually."

"Huh?" Mick tries to make out the logic in Andy's last statement, but can't.

"Sorry." She chuckles to herself, "I mean that I'm betting on them staying with their plan to be here because they'll be sure that we'll look anywhere but where they said they'd be."

Mick rolls that one around his head, then nods. "Okay. I think I get it. We should be getting close to where Josef said he'd meet us."

Right on cue, the backside of a candy-apple red Ferrari pokes into view out out of some artistically arranged bushes as Mick and Andy round a sharp curve in the road. Josef's head pops out of the scrub, two leafy branches in his fists. He places them on the trunk, cocks his head to one side and pulls a bush in front of his license plate. Apparently happy with the now-well-camouflaged car, he turns back to the two of them, "If this thing ends up scratched, you do know who I'm blaming, right?"

Andy smiles, "The guy that drove the Ferrari?"

Josef folds his arms across his chest, "What else am I going to drive?"

Andy just shakes her head and turns to face the towers. "Let's do this thing."

Mick moves up to her right, intentionally covering her weak side. Josef steps to her left, echoing Mick's position. Andy glances at both of them, then squints ahead towards the towers blinking in distance. "Well, damn. That just went up." She starts trotting forward, surprising both vampires and leaving them briefly frozen behind her.

Mick recovers and hurries to catch up, "What went up? Another shield?"

Andy looks at him over her shoulder, eyes faintly glowing burnished silver, "Big one."

Josef appears next to Mick, and frowns at both of them, "Explain?"

Andy turns towards him, he recoils a little. "Sorry, I can't help the eyes. Anyways, a huge energy wall just went up; it's a really good sign that the bastards are still trying to go through with their plan."

Mick strains to see any change ahead, "Are you going to have a problem getting through?"

Andy's expression turns feral, "Not at all."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Josef growls.

The three of them jog up the road, Andy taking point. She slows as they approach the towers. She steps off the pavement and motions Mick and Josef to follow. She turns towards them, whispering low enough Mick finds it hard to tell if she's speaking aloud or talking inside his head. "From here, follow me exactly. We haven't set off any alarms yet, and surprise is only going to help us."

She heads off at a tangent to the curve in the road, slipping through the bushes with nearly no noise. Josef frowns at Mick, who shrugs and follows the guardian into the brush. Josef drops in behind him, and the trio snake through the low trees and scrubby bushes for what feels to Mick like an hour, but is likely just minutes. Andy stops again and turns to Mick. "Stay here."

Mick frowns and shakes his head.

"Stay." Andy lifts a hand towards him, "I'm going to take down the shield. When the pretty sparks stop flying, you can come, all right?"

Mick blanches, then nods, turning his head to look back at Josef, who shrugs and flicks his fingers at Andy with a shooing motion.

Andy steps out of the bushes into the edge of the clearing. She stands motionless for a moment then raises her left hand towards the blinking tower fifty yards in front of her. To Mick's eyes there's absolutely nothing in the clearing, just a few weeds that have struggled up in spite of the recent droughts and the three towers arranged in a loose triangle. Suddenly, the closest tower begins to glow, like foxfire rippling up the metal lattice. The other two join it, then the air between the three towers ripples with bands of sickly green shot through with clear blue. The blue begins to overwhelm the green then the sheets of color shatter into a rain of silver sparks.

Mick feels a growl start deep in his chest as the outline of two figures are revealed in the center of the area between the towers. The evening breeze carries the scent of stale blood to his nostrils and he pushes his way out of the bushes, Josef less than a half-stride behind. The two vampires arrange themselves flanking the guardian, who hisses, "This ends now," and the trio stalk towards the towers as one.

Mick flinches as he feels Andy take his hand and glances over her head at Josef. Josef's expression is a mixture of annoyance and distaste, but he accepts her touch gracefully enough. Her lip curls into a smile edged with a snarl, "It's the guardian and the demon. We killed the one that was meant to be the second demon's body. There are kids up there, but they haven't been hurt much yet. I'll hold the bastards' attention while you two get the kids out of here."

Mick's jaw clenches, "What the hell is it with the children?"

Andy's eyes flick towards him, "Kids aren't supposed to die, so you get a lot more energy from killing them than someone older."

Josef bares fangs, "I'm going to kill the bitch."

Andy flashes him a wide grin, "I'll do my best to give you the opportunity." Her eyes snap back towards the two in the clearing as a brief flash of reddish light splashes a foot from Mick's face and flickers to nothing. The grin still firmly in place, Andy pulls both Mick and Josef's hands behind her. "Excuse me, boys, could you please take care of keeping in physical contact with me for a second?" She puts their hands on her wings and releases them. She lifts her arms, palms out and bright blue-white flashes against the two in the clearing cause them to stagger backwards.

Andy strides forward, and Mick closes his hand around the sinewy bone sheathed in warm feathers as he follows. He remembers the pain from the night before, and feels no embarrassment from following Andy's orders. He glances at Josef, whose face is all vampire.

His old friend looks back at him, hand clamped onto Andy's other wing, and smiles, "I'm not _that_ stupid, Mick."

Mick laughs at Josef, in spite of the silently deadly light show surrounding them.

Suddenly Andy tenses, "Oh, _hell_ no, bitch." Her hands clench in front of her and she freezes momentarily, eyes closed.

A reddish glow begins to pulse just behind of the two in the clearing, now only fifty feet from Mick, Andy and Josef. It illuminates the terrified faces of five children, arranged at the points of a pentagram drawn with something that shines slickly against the weeds. The red peaks, twisting, writhing, and dissipates with a pop, tearing a snarl from Mick's chest; the children wince from the flash but stare with wide eyes at the adults as the clearing goes dark, the only illumination now from the moon rising above the oaks. The silence is broken by a whimper from one of the kids.

The guardian in the clearing spins to stare at the children behind her. She turns back slowly, "What the hell _are_ you?"

Andy opens her eyes, answering with a smile, "A guardian, like you used to be."

The demon lifts a hand towards the kids, black eyes on Andy.

Mick can see no effect.

Andy lifts her chin at the creature. "Keep trying, it's not going to work."

The demon hisses wordlessly and clenches his hand into a fist. A ripple of red runs around the edge of the pentagram, but nothing else happens.

Andy twitches her wings, _Follow. Don't let go, no matter what, until I get you in the middle of the star on the ground around the kids. Then grab them and run like hell._

Mick squeezes the wing under his hand in acknowledgment, his eyes fastened on the kids. Andy walks forward directly at the two standing between them and the children. They crouch slightly, onto the balls of their feet, but Andy doesn't slow or change her stance. Shadows dance in Mick's peripheral vision, but disappear as he turns his head to catch what they might be. From nowhere a rumble of thunder rattles his teeth, and he smells the sharp bite of ozone.

Andy laughs, the sound more like the bark from the wolf than anything that should come from a human, "Are you really that stupid? Lightning in the middle of three giant conductors?"

Mick feels the hair go up on his arms and looks wildly at Josef. Josef's pale eyes meet his grimly, and he shakes his head at Mick. Lightning illuminates the belly of a cloud suddenly straight overhead, thunder echoing the flashes. Mick's eyes widen in panic, _these things can call storms? What the fuck are we doing here?_

A warm voice echoes in his head, sounding distracted but still amused, _I told you _I_ could flatten the city. I'm embarrassed now that Phillip surprised me so badly last night, the bastard isn't anything worse than the usual sons of bitches I deal with. See?_ A bolt snakes down, Andy lifts a hand palm up and the thing shatters into a thousand small sparks that dance down the invisible barrier around them, the crack of thunder from the superheated air even muffled enough Mick barely winces.

"Embarrassed. Right." Mick chokes.

A wind blows up, ruffling the feathers on Andy's wings and blowing Mick's hair wildly. "You are going to start a brush fire if you're not careful," Andy cocks her head, and the roiling cloud above them seems to melt away, the last bits blowing across the face of the moon now nearly overhead. Andy shifts her approach towards the pentagram, sidling close enough that Mick can identify the marks on the grass as a mixture of the blood from the two children they rescued earlier. Their opponents back away from them, seemingly reluctantly but unable to hold position against the repeated blue-white flashes crashing against them. Mick tears his eyes from the gaudy display and looks towards the children. All five appear reasonably whole, though their faces are white and fearful, eyes so wide as to seem like holes burned in their heads.

"Yes." Josef's voice startles Mick, "We're in. Go!"

Mick blinks in surprise to be within the pentagram, but responds to Josef, darting across the thin grass towards the nearest child. The child is tied, throat, wrists, and ankles to a stake pounded into the hard ground. Rather than wasting time with the restraints, Mick yanks up the stake and runs to the next one. He keeps his eyes away from the escalating fury of the incomprehensible fight at the edge of the pentagram, concentrating on the child in front of him and the other whimpering against his chest. Josef is suddenly at his elbow, three small burdens in his arms, "Go!" Mick frees the stubborn peg from the dirt and sprints after him into the darkness.


	15. Chapter 15

A nearly inaudible whimper brings Mark out of his blank contemplation of the hand-length grey feather in the center of the coffee table. He blinks twice then looks down at liquid brown eyes, round with imploring need, staring up at him from a pointed face framed with delicately pinned ears. A thin tail thumps wildly against the couch, and Mark feels a lump fill his throat. The dogs were Andy's choice, her responsibility, her companions. He'd fallen in love with them, of course, but now their wriggling happiness at breaking him from his silent abstraction serves only as a reminder of his confused and somewhat terrifying loneliness.

His eyes move back to the feather. He'd touched it once, to rescue it from the rug and the dogs' curiosity, but that moment was the denouement of the most painfully unsettling night of his life, and he still clings to a scrap of hope that it just may have all been a nightmare. Unwillingly, his arm moves from his thigh, fingers trembling at the end of it, towards the silvery-grey wisp on the table. He stops, unable to bring himself to admit its reality was so sure a thing, and stands woodenly to go feed the dogs their dinners.

To the background of cheerful crunching and rattling of steel bowls against the tile floor, Mark runs his eyes around the living room. Though it has been two days since Andy...left, he'd not moved anything but his little hallucination. The handset of the telephone is still on it's side on the rug where her wing had knocked it off the coffee table...

_No. That didn't happen. She just never came home last week, and you are going crazy._

But didn't everyone say that if you thought you were going crazy, you weren't?

_There's a feather on the table..._

_From my wife's wings. How is that not crazy?_

_But, I saw her, I heard her, I could fucking _feel _her heart shattering in her chest when she told me!_

He bites back the sob threatening to choke him.

_Why was she afraid of me? How the hell is she what she is? Why the hell is she what she is?_

_Because you are crazy, and she's not real_.

But there's a feather on the table...

* * *

Andy takes a breath of relief as she feels the two vampires' presences fade in her mind with distance. Getting them and the children safe had been the first priority. Making the rest of the city safe now up to the top of the list, Andy thinks furiously, _Taking out the demon will knock me flat, leaving the guardian. Focusing on the guardian while the demon is still alive will give him the opening he needs to get past me. Doing more than this stalemate of a light show requires I drop my shield, and the second I do that, both of them are going to throw everything they have at me. I don't know how fast I can fly with this fucking rib._ The demon redirects one of her volleys upward and it's pulled into the iron of the nearest tower, trailing blue sparks. _Nor how soon someone is going to notice this little kaffeeklatsch. _

Energy still pours into her from the surging river of power beneath her feet, the sheer quantity terrifying for it's potential in the hands of the two she faces twenty yards away. _Hell, it's terrifying in _my _hands. I've never encountered such a concentration of power so close to the surface before. Normally the stuff flows. Back into the earth, feeding the living rock, keeping this planet spinning in space. Not stuck out here, tempting psychotic ex-guardians into alliances with demons..._A particularly violent blast from the pair shatters against her shield, interrupting her spurious musing. _Maybe you should pay attention? You still haven't figured out how to kill _both_ of them._

Andy sends a series of lightning-like bolts of energy at her two adversaries, eliciting a sharp curse from the female and forcing them both back a few steps. Andy takes instant advantage of the slight success, and _pulls_ at the line she has to the power below her feet, twisting it into shape through mental channels beginning to burn from the strain and targeting bolt after bolt towards the retreating pair. Relying desperately on the crystal running through her bones to focus the energy away from living tissues that would scorch instantaneously otherwise, Andy's hands shake with the first symptoms of fatigue from controlling so much power for so long. _And both of the bastards are vampires, so _they _aren't feeling this shit scorching their minds; their bodies don't get tired, damn them! I have got to end this! But how?_

* * *

Josef skids to a stop behind the bush covered Ferrari. The warm little bodies in his arms have burrowed into his cold chest; one whimpers into his neck, and the other two tremble silently with their faces pressed into each shoulder. Josef looks up at the velvet night sky, counting the uncharacteristically visible stars, trying to shove the anger back enough that he can keep from frightening the precious little ones further.

Tremulous control achieved, Josef lowers his gaze to Mick, whose clenched jaw makes his own teeth ache. Mick's eyes are back to cloudy hazel, but Josef can see that is the limit of the man's self-control. Josef kneels to set his arms-full of children down, but the little ones squirm in resistance. Their bindings prevent them from clinging to him, but they are surprisingly capable of gluing themselves limpet-like to his shirt in spite of that handicap. His heart spasms in anger, but he keeps his voice level, "It's okay, you are safe now. I just want to take these ropes off of you and we'll take you home."

Mick sinks to his heels and gently deposits his pair next to Josef's. The five pinched little faces turned up at the two vampires nearly ends Josef's attempt at his facade of calm, and he fumbles with the knots in his hands blindly as he clenches his eyes shut on his burning fury. A cool touch on his shoulder, "Go, get the car ready, I'll take care of this," sends him lurching to his feet. He takes deep, presumably calming breaths as he yanks the bushes away from the driver side of the Ferrari. He wrenches the door open, drops into the seat, and jams the key into the ignition. Reminding himself not to break the damn thing off in the slot, he brings the powerful car to life with a twist and backs the car from the bushes, slowly, calmly, without a squeal of tires, _Don't scare the children even more, or draw the attention of the monsters at the top of the hill away from Anderyn._

He shifts the transmission into park, and leaves the engine idling. He slows his heartbeat and his breathing and forces his eyes back to brown only through the practice gained over four hundred years of concealing his emotions. He pushes the door open and stands, feeling every day of his unnaturally long existence pressing against him, and looks for Mick.

The younger vamp is covered by the human children. Two cling to his neck, one wraps her thin arms around his waist, another clings to the fabric of his coat, and the last sucks his thumb while he leans against Mick's thigh.

Josef feels his face soften at the spectacle, and shakes his head at Mick's bemused expression. "Try to peel them off and I'll put them in the back seat. I don't have enough belts for them, but it's still safer back there."

Mick scoops the two with their feet still on the pavement into his arms, and strides to the car. He offers Josef the first child, who eagerly transfers her hold from Mick to him and looks up at Josef's face with wide, darkly shadowed brown eyes. Josef smiles down at the little wraith, and bends to place her into the back seat of the quietly humming car. The little girl suddenly wraps her arms around his neck and squeezes hard enough she'd have choked him if he actually needed to breathe, "Thank you," she whispers, then she abruptly lets go and crawls onto the seat.

Josef bites his lip against the pain rising in his chest and reaches for the next one. Mick's eyes betray his own reaction to the little trusting souls in his arms as Josef mechanically transfers each of them into the back seat of the Ferrari. Once all of the children are in, Josef turns to Mick, "I don't think dropping them at the closest police station would be the best idea. I think getting them as far from here as possible would be safer all around. It would give us time to deal with what's up there," he points up the hill, where a cascade of blue sparks suddenly sprout from the southernmost tower, "Provided the light show goes unnoticed. Why does everything that creature does have to be so theatrical?" He sighs, trying to slip into the familiar armor of the unrepentantly callous and sarcastic hedge fund trader.

Mick nods sharply, but with an eyebrow lifted, "I agree. You can take them to the station in district sev..."

"Me?" Josef frowns, "I'm not taking them anywhere. You get them out of here."

"What?" Mick asks, a frown matching Josef's wrinkling his forehead.

"What in hell would Josef Kostan have to do with five kidnapped children? And you know there is no way that I could get out of a police station without someone eventually recognizing me. You at least are a P. I. who would have a very good reason to be bringing kidnapped kids to the authorities. So go." Josef glances up the hill, "Before it's too late."

Mick hesitates, "But..."

Josef sighs, "I will go up there and help her. I have a very strong motivation to kill the one guardian, and will suppress my rather weaker desires to kill the second one." He pauses at Mick's expression of doubt, "I promise. Now, go!"

Mick glances up at a series of flashes at the top of the hill, then folds himself into the driver's seat. He puts the car into gear then looks up at Josef. His face is taut with conflict, and Josef grins, "Go. I'll take care of her. For you. Just this once. Go."

Mick shakes his head, then the Ferrari growls and disappears around the curve in the road.

* * *

Serena cannot accept this sudden turn of fate. Everything has crumbled before her eyes, from the moment Phillip/Lucen arrived home with that wound. And now she cringes from the unrelenting barrage of power from the guardian facing her and Lucen from across the clearing. Where the creature was getting the power to stagger the demon is a terrifying mystery, and how she hadn't killed herself with it another, strangely fascinating one. Another blast explodes against the shield she holds with the desperation of a cornered thing with the last of the energy she'd stored in the athaeme from the draining of the two children, and she winces with an unwilling yelp. Lucen glances her way with disgust painted across his expression, and motions for her to move closer.

Serena complies, and finds herself within the dubious shelter of the demon's shielding. He hisses, "Now where does our little agreement stand? I cannot give you what you wanted and you are obviously unable to provide me with my reward."

Serena holds her hands wide, "I have no hold over you at this point, nothing to offer, nor anything with which to threaten." _Other than the sure knowledge that if he abandons me, I will die here._

Lucen's lips pull away from his teeth, "Nothing other than with your existence, I can hope for Damen to be brought to me from the pit. Hope is more valuable than you think. But it puts me into your debt, and with that, Serena, you control me."

She gapes at him, surprise overwhelming fear momentarily. "Do you have a plan?"

"Give me the athaeme." He holds out his hand, as small lightnings strike around them repeatedly.

Reluctant, but seeing no other option, Serena hands him the small knife. He wraps his hand around it and closes his eyes. Serena glances towards the other guardian, whose wings are half spread. The clear outline of an accipiter raises an oddly atavistic aversion from the corvid Serena thought fairly deeply buried in her vampire form, and she growls low in her chest.

"There's a better attitude." Lucen smiles at her, his black eyes burning with some unidentifiable emotion.

Serena lifts her lip delicately, choosing to change the subject, "How is she doing this?"

He turns towards the guardian who has taken not one forced step during the entire confrontation, and his expression intensifies. "She's pulling it from the reservoir you hoped I could claim for you."

Serena blanches, "How? No human could survive a direct link..."

Lucen's eyes narrow, "No. No human can do what she's doing. No demon could do what she's doing. There is a list of exactly one thing that can, and it explains the damage I received last night as well."

Serena shakes her head at the silence as Lucen pauses, even the other guardian has stopped her offensive momentarily, as if she, too, were listening. "Well?"

Lucen rolls the athaeme through his fingers, "It's unheard of. It may even break the covenant."

"What?" Serena suppresses the urge to reach out and shake the demon. With some difficulty.

"You do know that guardians were created to counter us, yes?" His eyes shift back to the creature several dozen yards away, and he raises a hand towards her. Red crawls across her shields, briefly blocking her from view.

"I was aware of the irony of our little contract. Go on." Serena runs her tongue around a fang, attempting to feign patience.

"Well, there is an...understanding... in place between certain...forces. This...agreement... constrains both sides. It gives the mortals certain freedoms while limiting...others... from meddling." Lucen presses his lips into a thin line, "The guardians exist only because we bent the spirit of the covenant first. But we never broke the letter of the law, so they could only give mortals skills that would allow them to counteract us. They couldn't come themselves, nor could they give the guardians the ability to kill us!"

"Them? Lucen, who is 'them'? How is she doing this?" Serena winces as energy begins to swirl around her and the demon, the tiny maelstrom eroding Lucen's shield visibly.

He simply snarls, flexes the hand not holding the athaeme and his shield disintegrates into tiny arrowheads of power. The guardian throws up both hands as hundreds of the deadly projectiles embed themselves into her shield and begin to burrow through it, glowing a pulsating scarlet. She makes eye contact from the other side of the clearing, and Serena can clearly see her lip curl as she nods sharply. She lifts her wings and crouches, before dismissing her own shield with a flick of her right hand; it's sudden collapse depriving Lucen's leech-like swarm of energy, and the little shards fade into the damp night air. In her left hand she holds a long, slender crystal sword.

"She was made by a unicorn." Lucen hisses as he feints towards the guardian.

Serena's head snaps towards him, "There aren't unicorns."

"You say such a thing? _You?_ The only guardian to have overcome the influence of her makers to collude with demons? To give up the ability to shift into anything but the bird, because the panther and the griffon would turn on their own twisted bodies? The guardian who ignored the calls for help from the very children she sacrificed? _You_ say unicorns don't exist? Unbelievable." He sidesteps and the grass at his feet is suddenly dust.

Serena suddenly notices she is nearly ten feet away from Lucen. She stumbles towards him just as she feels a soft breath of wind brush past, and the metal of the tower just behind her glows a sullen red. "Do something!"

He smiles slowly, "You had only to ask." His hand flicks out sideways and the guardian staggers, and falls to her knees with a soft whimper.

Serena stares, the rich tang of blood hitting her nose. The guardian's hand moves slowly to the hilt of the athaeme, whose six inch blade is buried in her ribs. Blood darkens the woman's shirt, the stain spreading quickly.

Serena smiles, "So, link the athaeme to the energy through _her _line to the power, and with her death assume control_? _You are frighteningly brilliant, dear Lucen."

The demon smiles back.


	16. Chapter 16

A twig snaps behind Andy, and she half turns in alarm. Cop or accidental passer by, it didn't matter, the poor bastard was about to walk into a tiny corner of hell. Andy readies a bit of power to knock whoever was approaching unconscious, therefore hopefully safe from the two across the clearing, and not-so-incidentally preventing them from becoming witness to the sort of thing that would send them screaming for their closest weapon. Be that their gun or the local news, Andy wanted no more complications to this already overwhelming night.

A tiny glint in her peripheral vision snaps Andy's attention back onto the demon and the guardian and she flinches to her right before she is even conscious of the decision to move. Too late.

Something drives all the air from her lungs, and she finds herself on her knees staring down at the rune-covered hilt of the guardian's athaeme sticking out of her chest no more than two inches below and to the left of her heart.

_Crap._

Andy presses the edges of the wound against the flat sides of the cursed little knife, and throws up a shaky shield just in time. She winces from a red flash bare inches from her face, and looks behind her where whatever it was that had broken that fucking little stick that had distracted her at just the wrong moment makes another soft rustle. _I'll let the bastards kill you, I swear I will._ Her vision is beginning to waver at the edges as pain starts to spread across her chest. She struggles against unconsciousness by turning a trickle of the power in her mind onto the nerves around the knife, deadening them somewhat by overwhelming the tiny circuits with energy they weren't designed to handle.

The sounds from the bushes stop, and a face made whiter by the contrast between it's pale eyes and short-cropped brown hair and the black of the vegetation surrounding it appears.

_Josef. _

Andy pants shallowly through teeth ground together tightly enough to nearly overwhelm the pain in her chest with the pain in her jaw.

_I really _will _let the bastards kill him._

* * *

Josef freezes momentarily. Andy's on her knees and the scent of her blood is carried to his nostrils on a tiny wisp of breeze. She turns towards him as if she could have somehow heard his careful approach with an expression of blackest fury. He hesitates another second, then the bush immediately to his right explodes into a pillar of unnaturally red flame.

_Shit! Here!_ Andy's 'voice' screams in his head as she lifts a bloody palm towards him. The flames behind him waver and die as he dives towards her.

Hand clamped firmly onto the edge of a silvery wing, he crouches onto one knee as swirls of red skim around them, no longer held at a comfortable distance. Andy sways slightly, and her breath comes in short gasps. Josef pulls her against his side, "What happened?"

_Sword._

"What?" Josef winces from a scarlet shadow crawling along his arm, tendrils of pulsating black curling around his wrist without, quite, touching him.

She points with trembling fingers to a long crystal object just inches out of the reach of her left hand. Josef reaches around her and picks it up, his spine tingling like he was about to get a serious shock as he touches the oddly warm crystal. He frowns as he presses the hilt into her hand. She sags against him, and the strange amoeba-like blobs shriek as the invisible barrier around them expands and flings them away to vanish into the cool night air.

_Thanks. _Andy pants into his shoulder.

"What happened?" Josef repeats his earlier question as he glances up at the frustrated expressions of the two on the opposite side of the clearing. The raven-haired guardian's hands are clenched into fists, while the demon's face is twisted with furious surprise.

_The usual. Dropped the ball at a bad time._ Andy picks her head up from his chest, _I take it the kids are safe with Mick?_ She continues at his sharp nod, _You here to take your shot at that bitch?_

Josef lifts an eyebrow down at her, at trick he usually leaves to Mick, but the question caught him off guard. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but a challenge to actually exact vengeance on the guardian was definitely not it.

Andy's lips pull into a half-smile, _I just came up with a plan. _She closes her eyes and tenses visibly before yanking the athaeme out of her ribs. Her body spasms against him as she frees the knife from her chest and Josef catches her wrists with his free hand, holding her dangerously-laden hands away from the both of them. Andy whines in the back of her throat as she collapses into his arms, shaking.

The demon snarls, and strides towards them, the guardian following a heartbeat later.

Josef curses softly, and calls Andy's name, "You've got to wake up, that pissed them off."

She opens eyes burning brightly silver and offers him the hilt of the athaeme. _Up for one last trip through the black?_ She tries to push herself to her feet, but Josef shifts his grip, supporting her against his side as he stands and takes the bloody dagger from her right hand.

He snarls, baring fangs aggressively at the two monsters who stop abruptly ten yards from him and Andy. Josef growls low in his chest at them, and they both back up a step. The demon raises both hands towards them and dull crimson flames encircle Josef and Andy. Josef twists his wrist and the athaeme glints dully in his hand, the blood appearing black and the metal reflecting the flickering scarlet. He smiles down into Andy's eyes, which have taken on the same sanguine qualities as the knife, "I've _never_ been afraid of the dark."

* * *

Andy smiles a little up at Josef's bravado and suppresses a cough. She tastes blood, the metallic tang a sharp warning, _All you have to do is cut her with that. My blood will incapacitate her. Actually, it will probably kill her._ She shrugs. _Either way, it takes care of the problem._

Josef cocks his head, "Huh. Guess I get that joke now." He holds the athaeme a little farther away from his body, and shifts his grip around her shoulders to free both of her wings. "You'll be doing something about the demon?"

Andy lifts her wings, _Oh, yes. Jump._

The black of the space between _here_ and _there_ surrounds them. For the first time, a sensation other than cold penetrates the dark. _Pain._ No. _Agony._ It radiates from her side, shattering her concentration and shearing through her mind. A tiny corner of her consciousness recognizes the danger, and screams at her to ignore the torment, but it is overwhelmed by the stabbing icy anguish shredding coherent thought.

_Anderyn._

The voice is lost in the maelstrom as soon as it is perceived.

_Andy!_

_Josef?_

_Yes. Hold on, kid. You have to finish this._

Andy clings to the voice, and wrenches them both back to the clearing, her legs collapsing under her as Josef releases his grip on her shoulders. Her vision fades to grey, and she shakes her head to clear it, just in time to see Josef bend his head to whisper something into the ear of the guardian who stiffens with the shock of his sudden appearance at her back.

* * *

Serena gasps as she studies the features of the vampire crouching next the the cursed lucky bitch panting from the pain of the athaeme buried in her lung. He'd appeared from the bushes a breath ago, rushing to the downed guardian's side as if she conjured him. Serena feels her nails bite into the palms of her hands; no matter what they did, the creature managed to come up with a counter to it, and thwarted them. But this, _this_ is too much. _It can't be him. I'd never heard a whisper suggesting that he'd survived._ But her memory supplies a clear picture of that oval, too-young face. Even the expression is exactly the same, a defiant snarl, in spite of clearly bad odds. _His hair is shorter, though, _the stray observation forces itself into her mind, _it was much more attractive long..._

Lucen hisses at her, and she blinks away her abstraction, "What?"

"I asked," he stresses the past tense, "What connection do I have to the vampire? His scent is familiar to me, yet I've never experienced it before. Why?"

Serena smiles with a little shake of her head, "Because he was my sire."

Lucen stares at her for several heartbeats, face slack. Serena's smile widens; catching the demon off-guard was such a rare occurrence that she basks in the moment despite the current circumstance.

Lucen recovers, too quickly for Serena, and snarls, a panicky note to the tone, "No!" He lurches towards the pair huddled at the edge of the clearing, and Serena gapes after him. Her eyes follow his frantic motion, and she feels her chest rumble with an irrepressible growl. The vampire now holds the athaeme and supports the guardian to her feet as he stands. Serena strides after Lucen, hands balled into fists, murmuring a cantrip of power-gathering as she approaches her impossibly resilient adversary.

There was certainly enough residual energy floating around that she could augment Lucen's strength and shatter the creature's weakened shields. Without the athaeme, Serena might be limited to what her own body could store, unlike the anomaly she and the demon were facing, but that wasn't just a few sparks and gaudy light tricks. If they could crack the guardian's shields, sending her screaming into a pillar of flame would be just about the most fitting end she can think of for this disastrous night. And as the bitch's blood covers the athaeme, her death would still trigger the spells etched into the dagger's blade.

_And the power will be mine!_

Serena almost runs into the back of Lucen as he suddenly stops, as if he'd hit an invisible wall. She hisses threateningly at him, but he stays frozen, black eyes wide.

Serena snarls over his shoulder, "Move!"

Lucen shakes his head, trembling like a hound leashed in the midst of rabbits. He lifts both hands at the two just yards away, and his signature red flames surround them. Serena steps past him, and the vampire still holding the guardian on her feet shifts his attention from Lucen to her. The growl rumbling in his chest crescendos to a roar; his glacier-blue eyes hold more rage than Serena thought possible for a creature who'd not yet experienced hell to contain, and she shrinks away from him, a thrill of real fear tingling down her spine.

In that moment, they both disappear.

Serena staggers a step, "No." Her head swivels wildly, "She couldn't, _wouldn't_...they'll both die."

A sudden vise-like grip crushes her shoulder, "Wouldn't _what?_"

Serena turns eyes filled with frustrated tears towards the demon, "She took them both into the black. Teleported. But to teleport with open wounds...the pain will destroy her concentration and they both will be lost." She shivers, shocked by the guardian's actions.

Lucen curses and drops his hand from her arm. "We have to go."

An icy wisp of breeze curls itself around Serena's neck, ruffling her hair. An equally chill voice breathes into her ear, "Don't leave yet. I haven't had the chance to properly greet my long lost daughter." Then pain shrieks through her, her knees buckle, and she collapses to the dusty ground. The cold velvet voice continues, "I think this is the perfect reunion. How about you?"

Darkness fills her vision and the voice fades. A howling replaces it, and the simple pain of a body, mortal after all, is replaced by the agony of an immortal soul.

* * *

Andy struggles to stand, hand pressed over the thawing wound in her side. A shrieking snarl, then a violent blow sends her into the steel girders of one of the towers. Something snaps in her right wing, and her sword spins from her hand as she falls and lands in a broken heap on the unforgivingly hard ground.

She pushes weakly at the dirt, trying to lift her head when a hard hand clamps around her neck and she's suddenly inches from the demon's madly twisted face. His black eyes burn red in their depths as he snarls furiously, fangs bared. "This ends, guardian. I end it. The covenant was broken by your creators, and I will carry the news to my brethren that we are also free of its binding."

Another voice, deeper, calm. "That's only going to work if you actually leave this clearing."

The demon shrieks, the point of the crystal blade erupting from his chest. Andy flinches from it's point as it grazes her cheek and grasps the blade in her left hand, "Run, Josef!"

She opens her mind to the power below; the sword, then the demon incandesces.

Darkness claims her.


	17. Chapter 17

Still not mine, even after all this time, darn it...Well, except for Lady Hawk. That one's mine.

A/N: First, so sorry for not updating this in a timely fashion. RL and just flat not being interested due to outside influences left me with nothing but cobwebs and echoes in my head.

A recap would probably be welcome...Basically, the story opened immediately after Josef left during the "advice" scene from "Dr. Feelgood". In my A/U, Mick isn't real happy accepting the advice and distracts himself reading "The Master and Margarita". (Best book EVER.) The cleaner calls him to help find a vampire that bailed on payment for a cleanup...beginning the tale.

Concurrently, Andy comes home and has to confront her husband about her mysterious disappearance. It doesn't go very well.

Back to Mick, who after accepting the job, ends up at Josef's office where information about the case leads him to call Andy for help. He doesn't think about the potential fallout...Like that Andy has a husband and she is keeping her secret from him. Andy's a little upset when she arrives at Josef's office, leading to her breaking Josef's nose--continuing the friction between the old vamp and the guardian.

Mick and Andy investigate the case. Multiple bad things happen ;) and Josef gets dragged in to help out as well. Just before this chapter, the story has culminated with a fight between our trio of heroes and the two bad guys left. The kids (the major motivation to stop the bad guys is that they have a penchant for using children to power their nasties) are saved, but Andy gets a knife in the chest. What follows is the denoument...

* * *

"Damn it, Davis. What exactly do you want me to say?" Mick paces, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Each tiny movement of the second hand on the watch on his wrist vibrates his bones.

Tick-tick. His boot heels echo the rhythm a half-beat behind.

_What's happening right now? Are they safe? Did they kill the bastards?_

Tick-tick.

"Mr. St. John, we just got the missing persons reports this afternoon. How could you have recovered the children? Who are you working for?"

"I already went over this with you, Davis. I was working a completely unrelated case when I found the kids tied up in that abandoned building on Fifth."

_The Cleaner had better have made it look good._

Tick-tick.

"There hasn't been any activity in that area for months, St. John. That building was just inspected on Wednesday. It was locked up tight. Why were you trespassing on city property?"

"Lieutenant Davis. The case is pending, I can't speak to you about it."

_And I'm about to crush your skull if you don't let me out of here..._

Tick-tick.

"You know that it would be child's play for me to call Lindsay and have your license revoked as of yesterday, St. John. Then you would have to answer my questions."

"Again. What the hell do you want me to say?"

"How did you find the kids?"

Tick-tick.

"I told you already."

"I don't believe you."

"Then charge me with something, or I'm leaving."

Tick-tick.

"I have twenty-four hours."

"I don't."

Tick-tick.

* * *

_Run, Josef! _The command snaps Josef from his predatory euphoria. His hand burns and he reflexively drops the hilt of her sword. He stumbles backwards as it brightens, his eyes stream painfully and he raises his arm to shield his face from the sun-like flash. The demon's scream suddenly cuts off as the burning light engulfs his body and Josef spins and bolts away blindly. He ignores the clawing branches of the brushy trees as he runs from the searing horror behind him.

Suddenly he bursts out of the brush, and skids to a stop on the pavement of the winding little road into the park. The city spreads below; the yellow of sodium-vapor lights reflecting against the creeping bank of clouds blowing in from the ocean casts an ocher pall over everything. He inhales and the muddy scent of exhaust and salt mixes with the bite of the sage clinging to him from his headlong escape from the clearing. It washes the fear from his mind and he turns back towards the blinking towers. All is dark and calm.

Outside of his head, anyway.

_It's done._

He savors the memory of the black-haired guardian arching against him, her cool blood gushing over his hand on the hilt of the very same athaeme with which she had raped immortality from him so many years ago. Time hadn't softened his need for revenge, and he thrills with the satisfaction curling in his belly.

A familiar, unsettling noise distracts him and he frowns down the road. Red and blue flashes dizzyingly at the very edge of his vision, and he curses in every language he knew.

He begins jogging back to the clearing, pulling his phone from his pocket as he follows his obvious trail through the bushes.

"Josef. We're kind of busy right now." The Cleaner's rich contralto snaps in his ear.

"As I am about to be if you can't send me a crew immediately. Radio towers, Baldwin Hills. Ten minutes ago would be perfect." Josef hits the 'End Call' button as he trots into the slightly scorched area under the towers.

Two dark lumps lie close together at the opposite edge of the open area. Josef stalks warily towards them, four hundred years of caution running steel claws up his back. Smoldering manzanita adds its pungent bite to the air, and he strains his ears to catch the sharp keen of the distant sirens, trying to gauge how much time he had to erase evidence.

A ragged heartbeat stutters against his eardrums.

_I can't believe it._

He hurries towards the sound. He pauses over the first guardian and toes her in the back. The body rolls bonelessly, the stink of unabated decay wrinkles his nose, and her pale eyes have already clouded over.

He cocks his head at the second one, eyes narrowing. Blood oozes slowly from the grey pile of feathers.

_I can not believe this._

He sinks to his heels next to Andy, wrists folded against each other, debating internally.

The sirens wail louder.

_Damn it._

He stands, and stomps to the smoldering bush a few yards away. He gingerly picks up a smoking branch and turns back to the first guardian. His lip lifts as he drops it on her. He carefully bends over and blows on the dully glowing red twigs. The embers flash then quickly catch on the dead vampire's flesh. Josef dances back, mouth curving into a slow smile as the guardian burns.

He sighs, and reluctantly turns away from the flames.

His lips press into a thin line, then he bends and scoops Andy into his arms. He scuffs his already ruined shoe through the pile of ashes at his feet and uncovers the crystal sword. He awkwardly retrieves it, too, and jogs back towards the road.

He pauses at the edge of the thick brush as several police cruisers and a fire engine scream past. He darts out and sprints down the asphalt the last few hundred yards to Mick's Mercedes' hiding place. He elbows his way to the passenger side and yanks the lock up and the door open, trying not to drop Andy or impale himself.

_You have a broken window and a ragtop, Mick. Why the hell did you lock the thing?_

He drops the sword onto the floor and winces as it slices the carpeting. He eases Andy into the passengerseat and stretches across to pop the lock on the driver's side. He straightens and closes the door. He frowns at the bushes pressed close all around, and scoots across the hood to avoid fighting with the prickly scrub. He yanks the door open, and settles into the seat with a groan, then looks across the car to Andy. He pulls his phone out again, dialing a number Mick would likely be surprised he knew. He pins the phone between his ear and his shoulder while he fiddles below the steering column.

"Hello."

"Guierrmo, it's Josef." He worries his bottom lip as he sorts through the knot of wires by touch. _So I lied to Mick when I told him I couldn't hotwire. Blame me for being lazy. But the idiot could have given me his keys before he took the kids. Time is not on my side right now._

Silence.

"I need you to bring a few things over to the house." The car rumbles to life. _Thank God._

"Uh, well, I'm kind of working here, Mr. Konstantin."

"Oxygen, suture materials, I.V. fluids. And a chest tube if you can get one." Josef backs out onto the road, "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

He hangs up and hits the accelerator. The Mercedes grumbles a bit, then responds with a rush of speed.

The sirens fade behind them as he barrels down the hill and away from the crackling orange flames licking at the sky in the mirrors.

_I guess I should call the Cleaner back and cancel that crew..._

* * *

Two cell phones chirp discordantly, and the two men glaring at each other over the steel table jump.

Mick reaches into his hip pocket, "You mind?"

Lt. Davis waves at him as he flips his own phone open.

Mick taps the screen, Josef's voice growls immediately into his ear. "Stay quiet. Get yourself to the airport, and bring Andy's husband to my house when he arrives. It'll be gate 37. Don't scratch the car." His voice cuts off.

Mick pulls the dark phone from his ear with a frown, and glances over to the lieutenant. His face is slackly surprised as he stutters affirmatives into the speaker, "Yes, sir. Of course." His eyes close slowly and his nostrils flare. He snaps the phone shut, and sets it deliberately onto the table between them.

"Carl?" Mick stops on the question as the detective raises a hand.

"I am going to find out how you pulled this off. Then I'm going to find out why. Then I'm going to hunt your ass until I find what you did in a past life to deserve the luck you have riding your shoulder and find a way to make it run out." He opens his eyes, "You understand me, St. John?"

"I do."

"Good. Get the hell out of here." Lt. Davis points to the door.

Mick stands, then turns to go.

Lt. Davis whispers, "Wait."

Mick stops, fingers inches from the grimy metal handle.

"The kids. We'll get them home, where they belong."

Mick nods sharply and pulls the door open.

* * *

"Sir?"

Mark lifts his head from the Plexiglas window with a start. "What?"

The obsequious stewardess offers him a bland smile, "We've arrived, sir."

Mark looks back out the tiny window past the black building looming against a sky filled with the deep garnet bellies of clouds low against the mountains visible in the distance. He shivers at the color, closer to that of dried blood than the portent of another crystal southern California day.

"Sir?"

"Thank you," Mark pulls his eyes from the sanguine clouds with a shudder and half stands from the soft leather seat. The small jet's luxurious appointments didn't include ceilings high enough to accommodate his six and a half plus inches. He follows the stewardess, head bent, down the short aisle to the exit. He takes a breath of relief as he escapes the slightly claustrophobic confines of the plane and descends the stairs to the tarmac. Another cardboard airplane personnel waves him towards the gate entrance and he hurries towards his mysterious destination.

"What is it with the calls at the wrong side of midnight?" Mark growls under his breath as he climbs the seemingly endless switchbacks up to the gate.

_The phone shrilled his heart to his throat. He dived out of bed and stumbled down the hall to the living room, barking his shin on the coffee table as he felt around the carpet in the dark. He pressed the 'answer' button._

"_Hello?" Surprised that the battery had lasted so long, Mark sat on the edge of the couch and rubbed his sore leg._

"_Mr. Mark Fletcher?" The smooth baritone on the other end seemed to expect an affirmation._

"_Speaking." Mark bit back the temptation to immediately snap, And where's my wife, you creepy bastard?_

"_Mr. Fletcher, my name is Josef Kostan. I have to ask you to go to the airport as soon as it's feasible. I have a plane waiting for you." The sound of a powerful car engine getting pushed to its limit added an odd counterpoint to the man's polite tone._

"_Does this have something to do with Andy?" Mark hissed past the hard lump in his throat._

"_It does; you surprise me. I'm afraid I don't have the time to explain properly now. Will you come?" Tires squeal._

_Mark felt his hands chill as the question answered his suspicions. "Yes."_

"_Hurry." The connection ended, and Mark pulled the phone slowly from his ear. Three furry heads tilted at him. He dialed the first number he could remember. "Sarah? Yeah. I'm so sorry to wake you. Can you help me out? I've got to go out of town suddenly, could you come by and feed the dogs? Yeah, it's an emergency. Thank you."_

Mark pauses at the door to the gate. He takes a deep breath and shoves the heavy metal barrier open. The gate area is deserted except for a man in a dark wool coat studying the arrivals and departures board. As Mark pauses and looks around, unsure of what to do, the man turns.

He approaches Mark and asks, "Mr. Fletcher?"

Mark nods, "Where's Andy?"

The man bites his lower lip, "Josef took her to his house." He pauses, his eyes troubled, "All I really know is that I'm supposed to take you to her. I assume she's hurt."

Mark swallows the urge to grab the man by the shoulders and shake him until he explained what the hell had happened to his wife. Instead he whispers, "So let's go."

The man nods sharply and starts walking away from the gate, "Do you need to go to baggage?"

Mark follows, his long legs taking him past the slightly shorter man in just a few strides. "No."

The man hurries to match Mark's pace, "Right."

It seemed like hours before they made it to the short term parking lot. Mark feels a frown crease his forehead as they approach a candy apple red Ferrari. The man goes to the driver door and puts a key in the lock. He glances up at Mark, recoils slightly, then smiles. "It's not mine. Get in."


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Not mine, except what is.

* * *

Something clanks under the hood of the old Mercedes as Josef jams the gear into park. He snorts, "Damn Continental engineering, Mick should have known better," and kicks the driver door open.

The young medical examiner waiting on his doorstep stands, two boxes stacked at his feet. "Mr. Konstantin!"

"What the hell are you doing waiting here? Anyone could have let you in." Josef slams the door closed behind him and glares at the young vamp with annoyance.

"Um, well, sir, I thought...It sounded like you might not want too many people involved, sir." Guierrmo stumbles over the sentence.

Josef takes a deep breath, the kid wasn't wrong, after all. "Fine." He frowns at the car, then strides up to his home and punches in the security code. "Bring the stuff, and follow me."

The techs at the stations in his front room don't even look up from their monitors as he and the M.E. pass. Josef smiles to himself; he probably could have paraded the bloody guardian through the house and his men wouldn't have paused a moment. But it was better to dismiss them a bit early than to pit their curiosity against their training. "Richard."

His house manager appears at his elbow, "Sir?"

"Dismiss staff and cancel the girls' appointments for the day." Josef continues down the main hall and gestures Guierrmo into the guest room on his right.

"Anything else, sir?" Richard's voice quavers with ill-suppressed curiosity.

"You may go when the staff have all left. Consider it a holiday." Josef turns on his heel, "Get the boys off the terminals before I come back inside."

"Of course." Richard hurries ahead of him and begins to bark at the techs to shut everything down.

Josef deliberately slows to give his manager time to clear the house. _And if she's already dead? _He shrugs to himself, _The I'll just buy Mick a case of A+ in apology and pay for a nice funeral for her husband._ He pretends not to notice his steps speeding up again as he makes the turn from the hall to the foyer and he breaks into a jog as he pushes through his front door.

He slows again only as he approaches the passenger side of Mick's car, and stops, his fingers an inch from the Mercedes' door handle. _Oh, hell. Don't be dead, yet. I told Mick I'd take care of you._ He opens the door and cocks his head a moment, listening. The guardian's heartbeat makes him sag with relief. Thin, none too steady, but still there. _Hold on a little longer, kid. You're going to be all right. Mick's bringing him, and everything will be okay then. _

* * *

Mark glances at the man threading the powerful car through traffic already worse than peak rush hour at home. Though the sun still hid behind the mountains, the man had put on a pair of dark sunglasses before pulling the Ferrari out of the airport lot. Feeling a hint of unease, Mark looks away, and instead focuses on willing the silver Chevy in front of them to get out of the fast lane.

"She's going to be fine." The man's voice is tight, quiet.

Mark frowns at his tone, "You don't sound like you believe that."

The sunglasses turn towards him, then back to the road. The man swallows, "I know."

Mark clenches his fists in his lap as his heart sinks, heavy in his chest. "What happened?"

"It's complicated." The man guns the car through a gap definitely too small for the Ferrari and the black Civic behind them lays on its horn.

"I think I can keep up." Mark hisses, frustration and fear choking him.

The man looks at him over the sunglasses, forehead wrinkled, "How much do you know about Andy?"

Mark takes a breath, _Don't punch him. _"I've been married to her for nearly ten years. I thought I knew everything. Apparently, I was missing a little."

The man's lips twitch, "Right." He swerves around a dented red pickup. "Well, I met her just a few weeks ago. She saved my life. A couple of times, now. Saved somebody I care a lot about, too. I owe her."

Mark nods, "So?"

The man bites his lip. "I asked her for some help with a case. That's when she had to tell you..." He trails off and glances at Mark, "I didn't know it would work out that way, that she was married or was hiding what she was."

"Just tell me what happened." Mark forcibly unclenches his fists and folds his hands in his lap. _Do _not _punch him._

"Fine." The man continues, "I called her because I'd just gotten a case that I didn't think I could handle without her help. A thing like Andy..."

"Thing?" Mark growls, "She isn't a _thing, _God damn it. She's my wife."

The man stops, his mouth sagging open a moment. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I..." He pauses, "I'd call myself that, too, under the circumstances."

"What?" Mark blinks at the man, confused.

The man pulls the sunglasses off his face and closes his eyes a brief moment. Then he turns to Mark, "Because I _am_ a 'thing'."

Mark bites back a curse as he stares at the man. "But...what the...you aren't...what are you?"

Pale opaque blue eyes hold no threat, only fatigue. "I'm a vampire."

Mark sits, frozen in shock by both the man's words and the clearly visible fangs in his mouth. _Oh shit, oh shit, I'm dead, I'm crazy, either way I'm fucked, God help me, please!_

The man blinks and his eyes are dark when he opens them again. He slips the sunglasses back on his face and turns his attention back to the road. "As I was saying, or rather what I should have said, a thing that used to be like Andy killed a child to summon a demon. She planned to have the demon somehow control energy that is apparently under those hills," he waives his hand at the mountains to the east, "by killing more children."

"Oh, God." Mark whispers, the man's narrative cutting through his panic.

"Andy stopped them. Seven of the eight children are okay." The man's tired voice softens.

Mark rubs the back of his neck, mind spinning. "But...I...why would you...I mean..."

"Why would a vampire care if children die?" The man chuckles without humor, "I guess that's a fair question." He pauses, "I finally figured out I don't have to be a monster. I found a reason not to be, I guess..." Another pause, then, "Well, back to Andy. She was the only one that could help us figure this thing out and fight the bastards. But she got hurt..."

"No." The man finally saying it hits Mark like a knife in the gut.

"Not that bad, not when I last saw her. She was still fighting. But we had to get the kids out of there, get them safe. I took them to a police station, Josef went back to help Andy."

"Wait. Josef. He's the one that called me, got me on that plane. He asked me to come, but didn't say why. Oh, God." Mark balls his hands back into fists, "What if she's dead?"

The man shakes his head, "No. Josef would have told me that. He would have."

Mark closes his eyes and tries to force the hoarseness from his voice, "How much longer?"

"Twenty minutes, the way this traffic is going." The man coughs a little, "She's going to be all right."

Mark nods, and opens his eyes, "What's your name?"

The man frowns, "I'm sorry. Mick St. John."

"Tell me everything that happened, Mick." Mark looks over to the man, "Tell me who my wife really is."

Mick smiles, "She's an angel. She doesn't think so, but don't let her convince you otherwise."

Mark rubs a bit of moisture from his eyes, "I won't."

* * *

Josef frowns down at the transparently white face of the guardian on the bed. Oxygen hisses from the small tank on the floor into the mask over her face. Guierrmo looks up from taping down a bandage across her ribs, "I still don't understand, sir. She needs surgery. Why don't you just have someone drop her off at a hospital?"

"Because if she goes to a hospital, she's dead anyway. It will just take longer. Not to mention what will happen when the authorities get their hands on a real live supernatural creature. It would be the beginning of a holocaust, trust me, and they won't stop at trying to find guardians. Vampires are too numerous to ignore once someone starts looking." Josef folds his arms across his chest. "Just do the best you can for her."

"It's not enough. She's still bleeding internally, and her lung is collapsed. It's a toss up whether she's going to die from blood loss or suffocation first, but she isn't going to make it like this." The M.E. shakes his head. "Why don't you just put her down, rather than postpone the inevitable?"

Josef spins towards the young vamp and growls, "She is not going to die. Just keep her going for a little while longer."

Guierrmo doesn't back down, surprising Josef, "If you plan to Turn her, you might as well do it now. She's plenty close to dead for it to work. I don't understand why you are waiting."

Josef recoils, "I'm not going to Turn her. I don't think I can, even if I wanted to."

"Why not? You said the other one was a vamp." The M.E. cocks his head at Josef, "What aren't you telling me?"

Josef sighs, "I shouldn't have tried to explain anything. Just stabilize her as best you can, then go."

"I already have. There isn't anything else I can do." Guierrmo shakes his head, "She won't make it through the hour, Mr. Konstantin. I'm sorry."

_Where are you, Mick? Hurry up, damn it!_ "Thank you, Guierrmo, you can go." He rakes his fingers through his hair and turns back to Andy.

"Sir." The voice behind him is quiet, cautious.

"Yes." Josef drops his hand to his side.

"What are you waiting for?" The M.E. moves to Josef's side.

"Mick. He's bringing her husband." Josef picks up a light blanket from the foot of the bed and begins to unfold it.

"Why would you want to do that? It's cruel." Guierrmo winces from him, a little.

Josef lays the blanket gently over Andy, "No, it's not. I think he can save her. I hope so, anyway."

"What? How?" Guierrmo grabs Josef's elbow and pulls him around to face the young vamp.

Josef blinks down at the hand on his arm, and back up. "A very long time ago, I made it my business to learn about the guardians. At the time, it was to try to find every possible way to kill them. Now, I hope the knowledge will help me save one."

Guierrmo's mouth sags open, and he shakes his head incredulously, "Why?"

Josef smiles, "Because she let me live."

"I don't get it." The young vamp begins to gather up the extra supplies.

"Neither do I." Josef turns back to the unconscious guardian on the bed, "Believe me, neither do I."


	19. Chapter 19

Again, if you recognize it, it ain't mine. If you don't, it is.

* * *

Mick sighs with relief as he is able to exit the clogged freeway. He pushes the Ferrari as they begin to climb the winding road to Josef's home. Mick focuses on making up as much time as he can, grateful to the low-slung car's agility as he pushes it past eighty around the hairpin turns. He doesn't have to look at the man sitting beside him to know that he agrees with the aggressive driving; Mick can feel the waves of impatient anxiety rolling of him even without the benefit of Andy's mind-reading gifts.

Tires squeal as Mick makes the final turn onto Josef's property. He slams on the brakes and the red car shudders in protest, fishtailing to a stop next to the old green Mercedes. Andy's husband throws his door open and stumbles out of the car before Mick can cut the engine. "Wait, Mark. You don't want to rush up to that door."

Mark growls over his shoulder, "I don't care who or _what_ is up there. They will get the hell out of my way and take me to my wife."

Mick slams the Ferrari's door shut, and races openly to Mark, putting his hand on the man's shoulder and spinning him to a stop. "We are going to go to her, I promise. But if you want to survive walking through that door, I suggest you follow me."

Mark flinches from under his hand, "Fine."

"All right. Stay behind me, okay?" Mick releases him and hurries to the house, Mark on his heels. He presses the intercom, and Josef's voice, tinny and distorted through the speakers, surprises him.

"Mick? Finally. We're in guest room three." The door clicks open, and Mick waves to Mark to follow. Silence greets them as they enter the main room of the house; Mick feels an uncomfortable prickle down his back at the lack of activity. Never had he seen Josef's house empty, the old vamp surrounded himself with people nearly all the time. Mick breaks into a jog as he turns down the hall to the guest suites, stopping on his heel at the open doorway on his right.

Andy's husband bumps into his back, but Mick remains frozen at the sight of Josef bending over Andy's still form in the middle of the large bed.

Josef looks up, and Mick feels his heart stop at his friend's bleak expression, "No."

Mark shoves his way past Mick, "Andy? _Andy!_"

Josef straightens, and puts a hand out to restrain the guardian's husband, "Easy. She's not gone yet."

"Why the hell isn't she in a hospital? What the fuck did you people _do_ to her?" Mark's voice cracks, as he stops inches away from Josef's outstretched arm.

Mick chokes past the lump in his throat, "Think about it, Mark. What would happen if we took her to a hospital like this? Come on, man, you've got to know you'd never see her again, and that's if you're lucky. If you aren't, you'd be locked up next to her and get to watch them as they pick her apart. I'm sorry." He moves into the room and looks over to his old friend, "Josef, what happened?"

Josef drops his arm, "Gently." He steps out of Andy's husband's way and Mark eases himself onto the edge of the bed. Josef meets Mick's gaze; his eyes are hollow, "I think I understand where you were coming from after Pollack, Mick. Sure doesn't feel like we won. But both the rogue guardian and the demon are dead. It's over."

Josef's words are cold relief. Mick looks down at Andy, "And what did they do to her?" He can hear her breath leaking in the wrong places; the guardian's heart labors against her falling blood pressure.

"Nailed her with the athaeme. I don't know how. I'd just gotten there when I smelled she was bleeding." He smiles, shaking his head a little, "She's a stubborn bitch, though, and we were able to take them out. Oh. And don't _ever_ let her bleed on you."

"She mentioned that. Why don't you have her on a transfusion? Her blood pressure is getting too low." Mick leans down and he cocks his head to listen more closely.

Mark's choked voice answers, "Because her blood reacts to every blood type."

"He's right." Josef's lip press into a thin line as he glances to Mick.

Mick raises an eyebrow to Mark.

"I tried to get her to give blood at a drive for work once." Mark shakes his head as he continues, "She said she had a genetic problem and couldn't. That her blood wouldn't work. I guess I know why, now, huh?"

Mick reaches out and touches the edge of a twisted wing, "She's dying."

Silent sobs fold Mark's tall frame at the waist; he touches his forehead to Andy's right hand.

"That's why I asked him to come." Josef sinks to his heels next to the anguished man, "I think you can help her."

Mark's head snaps towards Josef, "What? How?"

"I learned something about her kind when I was...younger. They can be healed, by anyone. I'd have done it myself, but I can't." Josef spreads his hands.

"You're like him, aren't you?" Mark jerks his chin towards Mick.

Josef shakes his head, annoyance evident in his expression. "Of course you know. Seriously, Mick?"

Mick frowns down at both of them, "What does he have to do?"

"Blood to blood contact." Josef looks back to Mark, "You have to cut yourself and hold it to a freely bleeding wound on her."

"What? What's that going to do?" Mick feels a touch of panic tighten his throat, "If her blood is deadly to vampires, what's it going to do to him? What the hell are you thinking, Josef?"

"The old professor from University explained that guardians have a fail-safe built into them. If they are...damaged, they can be saved by blood to blood contact with a human. Apparently, their bodies get confused and they are somehow able to heal because of it." Josef shrugs, "That's all I know."

"But what happens to the human?" Mick shakes his head, "We can't risk it."

"I don't care what you think we should risk," Mark stands abruptly, "Give me a knife."

Mick blinks at Andy's husband, "But..."

Josef turns to the table beside the bed. "Use this, it's sharp enough you won't even feel it." He lifts Andy's sword, which catches the thin stream of sunlight from the crack in the drapes as he offers it to Mark and casts a streak of multicolored spots across the room. "Just don't cut off your hand."

Mark reaches for the sword, "Where should I touch her?"

Josef smiles, "Her left hand is pretty cut up. It's probably better there than to un-bandage the athaeme wound."

"Josef, I don't think..." Mick steps around the bed, in front of Mark.

Mark's eyes narrow and he straightens to his full height. He growls, "Get out of my way."

Mick looks up at the taller man. "You don't know what's going to happen if you do this..."

"I know exactly what will happen if I don't." Mark's face crumples and he drops his head a moment. He takes a breath and meets Mick's gaze, "I can't live with that."

Mick drops his eyes at the expression on Andy's husband's face and backs away. _Too close, your pain hurts me, man. I didn't know I could feel this much; it's been close to sixty years since I felt alive. I can't lose that again. I can't stop you; existence is not better than death._

Josef reaches across the bed and begins to unwrap the gauze from Andy's hand. "I think you'll probably want to sit down."

Mark sits on the edge of the bed and holds the sword against his right palm, "Just cut my hand and put it on hers?"

Josef shrugs, "As far as I know, yes." He pulls the last of the bandage off.

Mark nods and pulls the crystal sharply across his hand. "Damn." He curses as his arm jerks, "That is fucking sharp." Blood runs down his wrist.

Mick reaches out and takes Andy's sword from him, "You cut through the tendons."

Mark hisses, "Yeah. So much for 'not hurting'. Give me her hand."

Josef rolls Andy's wrist so that her bloody palm faces up, "I told you not to cut your hand off."

"Go to hell." Mark presses his hand to hers, and lifts both to his lips, "Come on little bird, you've got to do this, baby."

Mick glances over to Josef, "They're a lot alike."

The older vamp gives him a black look, "I've noticed."

"Shouldn't something be happening?" A tinge of desperation sharpens Mark's voice.

"I think it is." Mick turns to Josef, "His eyes are green."

Mark frowns, then gasps, "My head!" His jaw clenches as he goes rigid, "God, it hurts."

Mick steps forward, then stops, not knowing what to do. "Josef?"

"I don't know, wait a minute." Josef rakes his hand through his hair.

Mark whines low in the back of his throat, but doesn't let go of Andy's hand.

Mick's eyes flick to Josef again; the older vampire just shrugs.

A few moments pass as Andy's husband clings to her hand. Suddenly the guardian coughs; blood fills the mask over her mouth and nose. Mick lunges towards her, his medic training taking over as he rolls her on her side and pulls off the oxygen. A few more spasms empty Andy's lungs and Mick hears the astonishing sound of air filling her chest. He listens as she breathes freely and cranes his head towards Josef. Mick shakes his head, words deserting him.

Josef smiles, "Looks like the professor was right." He moves around the bed and puts a hand on Mark's shoulder, "Are you all right?"

Mark blinks a few times before responding, "Yeah. The pain's getting better; I don't think it was ever me." He pauses, a frown creasing his brow, "I can see what she's doing."

"Disconcerting, isn't it?" Moving away from Andy's husband, Josef bends over a plastic box near the foot of the bed. He turns to Mick and holds out a stack of hospital towels.

Mick lays Andy back against the pillow, and takes the blue cloths from his old friend. "I saw through her eyes once. Makes you wonder what's out there. What do you see?" He wipes blood from Andy's face.

"It's all energy. We are, I mean. Where there's something wrong, the energy is broken, chaotic." Mark looks up. "You two are really messed up, by the way."

"Figures that's how she'd see us." Josef purses his lips, "So she's going to be all right?"

"She's tired." Mark's voice goes tight; it's obvious to Mick he's no longer addressing either him or Josef, "You aren't leaving without me, damn it. Stop holding back and just do it."

Mick raises an eyebrow at Josef. "Mark?"

The man growls, "She doesn't want to use my strength, but from what I can see, she has to."

"She's aware?" Mick feels his voice crack. "Andy?"

"Not really." Mark reaches out with his free hand and brushes Andy's hair from her face, "Come on baby, you can't do this alone. Let me help you." Another pause, then almost inaudible, even for vampire ears, "Please?"

Dust motes linger in the finger of sunlight still shining through the drapes as it moves an inch across the cream-colored carpeting and begins to creep up the wooden paneling on the far wall. Mick stands and backs away from the bed, unwilling to eavesdrop on Mark's desperation. He moves next to Josef; the vampires watch, helpless.

"Oh." Mark sags, "Damn."

"What?" Mick jumps, his heart reacting to the sudden curse.

"She's gonna be all right." Mark slumps over sideways, and his eyes close.

"Shit!" Josef rushes to the unconscious man, shaking his shoulder, "Mark!" He doesn't respond, but as Josef rolls him to his back, his hand falls from Andy's.

"Wait. Look." Mick reaches over and twists both of the humans' wrists. Both palms are unmarred except for a thin pink scar. "Listen, his breathing is steady. He's just asleep."

Josef sinks slowly to his knees at the edge of the bed, hands shaking. He closes his eyes and bows his head.

"Josef?" Mick gently releases Mark's and Andy's hands, and straightens, "They are all right; listen to their heartbeats." _Good job, man. I wasn't sure if you were going to convince the stubborn..._His thought cuts off as Josef lifts his head. "Josef?"

The older vamp swiftly rises and turns his back to Mick. "Good." He strides to the door, "I've wasted enough time, here. There's plenty of 'fresh squeezed' in the fridge and the human kitchen is stocked when they wake up. I assume you remember where everything is. I'll be at the office for a few hours, trying to make up the money I lost sending my staff home early." He disappears from sight, as Mick gapes after him.

A slow smile curves Mick's lips as he shakes his head and turns his attention to the unconscious humans on the bed. He chuckles as he shifts Andy's husband to a more comfortable position, too amused by Josef's monologue to be annoyed at his friend.

Because tears had streaked Josef's face before he'd turned away.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: I'm really sorry about leaving this story unfinished. There are two more chapters coming. Profound thanks to anyone still interested in reading.

* * *

Mark groans as something bright stabs into his eyes and straight through his skull. He turns his face away from the offending light and it feels as if his head just keeps rolling.

"Hey."

Stomach joining the head, he squints up at a tall, blurred shadow against the wall. It resolves into an angular man wearing a worried expression and holding out a glass.

"It wasn't a dream then. Damn." Mark shoves himself upright, then with a twinge of anxiety glances down at Andy, brushing her forehead with his fingertips. He looks back at Mick, who smiles and presses the cup into his hand.

"No, it wasn't." Mick's smile fades, "You okay?"

A quick internal inventory, "I think so. Head hurts some, but that's about it." Mark tosses back the water in a single swallow. "Is she okay?"

"Seems just asleep. Her heart sounds fine and breathing is good."

Mark flinches at the reminder that the man standing just out of reach of the sunlight coming through the crack in the curtains wasn't human. His hand brushes against Andy's wing and he glances down at his fingers against the warm grey feathers. He flinches again, _Neither is my wife. I think I preferred being crazy._

"You need some time to think." It wasn't a question. Mick continues, "If you turn left out the hall, then go through the main room, there's a kitchen stocked with human food." He offers an ironic nod, "Josef often has...guests. I'm going to have to get some sleep soon but if you need anything, I ought to be able to hear you knock. I'll be two rooms down the hall to your right."

Mark glances over his shoulder at the sun in the window, "Right. You're up nights, huh?"

Mick laughs, "Something like that. But I'm looking at my third sunrise without a break."

"Really? The...your case...it's been bad for all of you?"

A pause, "Yeah. You could say that."

"I should let you get to bed, then." _And what? Wait? She's just gonna leave again._

Mick interrupts his thought, "Josef had some clothes and whatnot delivered last night. I'm pretty sure everything is in the bathroom."

"Thanks." Mark stops, catching the time reference, "Wait. Last night?"

"Yeah. You've been out nearly twenty-four hours." Mick rubs his eyes.

Mark blinks, "You can't...I...I thought...shit."

"That pretty much sums it up." Mick leans against the wall with a halfhearted grin.

Mark shakes his head, "I think I need something stronger than water to sort this out."

"In this house, it's the wee hours. Perfectly appropriate." Mick pushes himself away from the wall, "I think I might join you."

"I..." Mark glances down at the dried blood on his hand and shirt.

"Get a shower, I'll have something poured for you." Mick smiles again, "I think Andy will be okay for a few minutes."

* * *

Wasn't death supposed to end pain? Or shouldn't you know, at least, that you were in hell? Andy attempts to open her eyes, but her lids don't respond to her mental commands. She tries to ignore the waves of fatigue alternating with the throbbing in her head and chest by trying to find something her body would respond to. Disjointed bits of conversation flow above her, confusing her more.

"...dream then? Damn."

"...third sunrise without a break."

"...shit."

"...think Andy will be okay..."

It fades into a buzz, mixing with images that could only be nightmares. Andy gives up trying to force wakefulness and huddles in the middle of the tempest. The scenes tumble around her as she tries not to look.

_Bloody babies limp in the demon's arms as he laughs... Time slips through her clenched fist; parents weep as she stares. Eyes dry, she turns away, again._

_Ruby flames surround them, burning through her shields. The two flanking her scream as the fire consumes them._

_Blue eyes brimming with fear, spilling over. His hot tears shred her as they shatter into a thousand tiny carved steel knives..._

Slowly the dreams turn to memory, no less chaotic with recognition.

_Black eyes burned garnet with fury as the demon prated about death, while Death stalked close behind him, her sword gripped in His vermilion hands._

_Cool flesh beneath her teeth, snarling at her to end him, while his fear shrieked in her mind._

"_You aren't leaving without me." His determination barely hid his terror, as he only just then realized the truth in his words._

_Cold._

No. Not this.

_Grey eyes wide as he trembled next to her, whispered, "How can you stop them?" A river of men, tanks, guns poured into the valley. Two teenagers watched, one helpless, one terrified._

No!


	21. Chapter 21

"It's so odd for it to be this quiet."

Mark frowns at the vampire lounging on the low couch facing a wall of windows overlooking a pool and the hazy city. "Sorry?"

Mick points at a glass on the coffee table. Mark gratefully takes it and sits, with just a little discomfort, at the end of the sofa. "Just that Josef likes company. But he also likes secrets."

"Andy's a secret?" Mark downs half the glass of whiskey without a sputter.

Mick lifts an eyebrow.

"I guess that was a stupid question." A little more whiskey, then, "I can feel her."

The vampire goes still, "Different? Than before?"

"I didn't know what I was feeling then. But, yeah, different."

They both stare out the window, silent except for the clinks of ice cubes against crystal.

Mark takes a breath, "I feel like I should be angry. But I'm not. It doesn't make any sense."

"Angry because she lied to you?" Mick looks sideways at him, "Or because she left?"

Chuckling, "Both, neither; because she could've died, I guess a hundred different times since I've known her, and I wouldn't have known. She'd just have been gone." Mark sighs, "Didn't she think I deserved to know?"

"She was afraid." Ice clinks.

"She _told_ you?" Mark chokes.

"No." Mick reaches for the whiskey bottle and slides it closer to Mark. "No. I...just...I know why she wouldn't have been able to tell you." Hazel eyes flick towards him, "It's pretty hard to watch somebody you care about figure out that you're a monster."

Mark closes his eyes and nods, "I think I can see that." He takes a deep breath, and pours himself another drink, not bothering to refresh the ice. "But it ends up that the one you care about doesn't hate you because of what you are. They hate what you've done to them. The lies."

Mick flinches and stares until Mark can't take the discomfort, "What?"

He shakes his head, "Sorry. It's just...you're right. Exactly right."

* * *

Cold wound through her mind, cutting, undiminished by the years. Like the memory it carried.

Half of the platoon lay as broken as the ancient rocks they hid behind. The rest gaped at her, her hands bloodied to the elbow from dragging those she could back from death. He whispered,"Go. This is bigger than even you can handle, and I'll slow you down by half."

His face flickered, changing; the memory shifting, _Not him too. Why?_ Eyes grey then blue, hair fading to brown, his gaze meeting hers exactly then frowning down from a foot above._ Not him, too, damn it!_

"Go!" She spun away, flight impossible in the darkness, a path in her head and all of hell behind her.

Pine and hemlock, snow and a hint of woodsmoke. Sweat freezing even as it trickled down her neck; her breath burned from her nostrils to her overburdened lungs. Evergreen needles weren't really...at least the ones muffling her frantic footfalls were brown. The trunks of ancient trees a shade blacker than the air seemed to deliberately block her path; there was no moon tonight. Bastards. They knew somehow. Why else take out the communications, but not bother with the rest?

Lights ahead, blinding, she stumbled, recovered, pushing harder. Frozen dirt and pine needles gave way to asphalt and the border gate loomed in front of her. Explanations and secrecy be damned; she pounded up the road as spotlights swept over her, then raised voices, a clang of metal on metal.

Green-clothed bodies poured out, the scent of oiled steel and brass casings, coffee and moldy canvas. She skidded to a stop, head high, fighting down the panic. "_Men come. Army."_ Frustrated by her inability to sort thoughts into words, she snapped her teeth together, "_Fight now."_

Slow, too slow, shouts, milling confusion, radios crackled and guns pointed aimlessly.

_Now!_

Boot heels echoed on the frozen pavement, darker green, bright ribbons on his breast. She trembled as he approached, the two parts warring, both on the edge of breaking. His hand steady as he raised it to her cheek, his dark eyes calm, "Easy now."

She let the terrifying image of the endless columns of men streaming into the valley, gathering at the foot of the mountain pass below the tiny ragged remains of her brother's platoon fill the man's mind.

His face sagged and his fingers slid down the plane of her face. His palm smelled of ink and whiskey. He blinked as she cut the vision off, and he pulled his hand from her muzzle, his fingers stained with the blood from her nostrils. He barked commands; the chaos rapidly disintegrated. He turned back to her, "Brave one, where did you come from? What are you?"

She shook her head, backing away from his kindness, mistrusting it. "_Mountains. Sunrise."_ Would he understand _where?_ No time. It had begun.

She spun, leaping from black to black, ice to ice, back to where she'd left her brother (_Or was is Mark, now? She can't be sure.)_ in the path of death.

They huddled below her, suicidal staccato gunfire temporarily slowing the massive metal river at the base of the pass. "_They come. Hold."_ She landed, shifting. A moment on her knees, sharp rocks digging at her palms, shaking her head to clear away the other; she stood.

Grey eyes met blue in welcome, "You did it."

_Stay grey...I can't lose him, too. _"It's not over yet." She _reached_ below, there's power there, too much, in fact. "Stay down, stay behind me, no matter what."

"Andy..." Bass, not baritone.

_No. I only lose one._ "Stay there, all of you." Bullets cut off any additional arguments, flashing on her shields. Even her brother stared, jaw slack.

Her world narrowed to the flow of power through her bones, channeled through her mind, burning. Target, attack, try to forget that the shrieking lumps below her were men, no different than the ones behind her. Try to ignore the overwhelming pain, the sharp stones digging into her knees. When had she fallen?

"Andy!" Whose voice this time?

It didn't matter, "No!"

Too late, bullets tore through him, and he crumpled just inches from where she knelt. A moment only, stunned, his pain tearing through _her, _then darkness.

Pulling him to her chest, she let go. The power poured through her; she twisted it into the _shape_ she needed to heal him, unable to acknowledge there was nothing for her gifts to take purchase on. He was gone.

What had seemed so small a thing, the simple presence in the back of her head, the touch of his soul to hers, gone.

The power crawled over the both of them, tendrils of fire. Voices behind her, fear. Fear seared her; they had nothing to fear from _her_, there was nothing left of her to burn.

There was nothing left _for _her, but she could follow.

The power rejoiced as she loosed it. Retaining just enough sense to hammer a touch of it into a protective barrier between her and those behind, she whimpered, _"Don't leave me alone."_

"I won't."

She bolts upright, her brother's arms around her, soothing her with murmurs, his voice too low. "Mark?"

"I'm here, you're gonna be okay, it was just a dream." Blue eyes, not grey. Why did he feel the same?

"Oh, God." She pulls away from him, grabs his wrists. He frowns as she turns his hands palm up.

"No." Feeling as if her heart is going to be crushed from her chest, she runs her thumb along the thin scar marring his skin, "No."

"Shh. It's okay, everything is okay." His blue eyes fill a little and a line creases between his eyebrows. He leaves his hands in hers; she can feel them tremble. _Fear, confusion, hurt. Why is she saying that?_

Andy jerks away, gritting her teeth against the unwanted intimacy. _Shield him out. Stop hurting him._

"You aren't hurting me." Mark lies, reaching up and brushing some hair out of her eyes.

She winces from his touch, "I'm sorry." She tries to blank her mind, shove all of the pain somewhere, anywhere he couldn't feel it.

His face twists; he can feel her withdrawal, "Andy?"

"I can't." She half-falls out of the bed, away from him, but dizziness and a deep ache across her ribs forces her to catch herself against a bureau.

Strong arms circle her, lifting. She's back on the bed, against his chest, his face buried in her hair, rocking slightly.

"Mark," She's losing the ability to separate herself from him, "Please..."

He shakes his head a little. "No." _Not this time. I will have answers._

"You don't want to know." _You married a monster. Now you don't even have a choice._

"What are you?" _I won't acknowledge that. There's a lot I don't know, but I know you aren't a monster._

"I don't know." _Bastard._ "They call me a guardian."

He smiles. _There's my girl._ "Sounds like they've got it right."

Andy lifts her head from his chest, looks up, "What?"

"Listen to yourself. You are a guardian. You watch over others, protect them."

A short bark of humorless laughter cuts him off, "Sometimes."

Mark runs his eyes over Andy's still-bruised face, trails his fingers down the edge of a wing. _You are inconceivable to me. _"Why are you afraid to be alone?"

The question is like a blow, "Because I know what it's like to be whole." _I can't. I don't have the strength left. But I can't hurt him, either. Why won't they let me die?_

Mark recoils from her, then crushes her to his chest, "Don't."

"I won't." _No matter how tired I am._ "I told you you didn't want to know."

"You did." He touches her wing again, "You are afraid of something. Why did you say 'no' when you saw my hand?" He rolls his palm up, then clenches his fist closed.

"Because my brother did the same thing." She takes shallow breaths against the freshened memories.

Mark goes still, "He died. When you were seventeen. Right?"

_And I'd have given everything I've ever had to give to have died with him. Souls don't stretch that far. _"Yes. How do you know that?"

"Since you wouldn't say anything, I asked your mom." He kisses the top of her head, "It seemed important."

Andy can't force herself to speak.

A few moments pass, "Look, I can't say that I know how you feel..."

_You will._

"What?"

"Nothing."

"That doesn't work anymore." He frowns.

_You have no idea. _"I guess not."

"Something to do with the, 'No'?"

"Yeah." Andy pushes against Mark a little. He releases her and she straightens, "I think I'm beginning to actually wake up. Can we start this again? Where are we, how'd you end up here, and did the kids end up all right?"

"You're at Josef's, he had him flown here, and the kids are fine." Andy's head snaps around at the welcome sound of Mick's voice.

"Sorry, I heard voices." He steps into the room, "Good to see you finally awake. You okay?"

"Will be." Andy looks sideways at Mark, "How long was I out?"

"Thirty-three hours." His voice catches a little.

Andy startles, "Really?" _Shit._

_It was bad, Andy._ "Yeah." Mark coughs a little at the lump in his throat.

She closes her eyes, _I am so sorry._

_Stop that._ "Do you need anything? Hungry, thirsty?" He reaches for a plastic bottle on the side table.

Suddenly aware of her body's screaming need for water, she nods and accepts the bottle. She tries not to choke as she gulps it down. Mick eases himself onto the foot of the bed, "Slow down."

She sputters, "I know. Doesn't mean I can."

He laughs and takes the bottle from her.

"Thanks." Andy leans against Mark, letting the water and her thoughts settle. "So Josef?"

"His name is still a question, then?" Mick bites the corner of his lip, clearly uncomfortable.

She just raises an eyebrow at him.

"He brought you back, after. Got a friend to patch you up a little, keep you with us until Mark could get here." Mick nods towards Andy's husband. "He remembered how to fix you, I mean guardians, you know, since a hospital was way out of the question..." He shrugs.

Andy shakes her head a little against Mark's chest. He smooths her hair away from her face, and she glances up. It feels like her heart is webbed with fine cracks throughout, waiting for just a little tap. _Not him, too. _"But why? When I...He...Why'd he even think to do it?" _And, why Mark? Why'd he have to do this to him? I'd rather have..._She cuts off the thought before it could hurt her husband and she closes her eyes. The background of _him_ begs to soothe her, the surety that she wasn't alone a sharpening reminder of the transient nature of the promise. Loneliness was the only reality, the rest, mere illusion. Temporary.

"Because I promised Mick to take care of you." Josef's slightly mocking voice precedes him into the room.

Andy startles and opens her eyes, "Josef."

Brown eyes flash, "And the dead awakes. Hope you realize how like a vampire you are."

"Surely. But waking this dead hurts both the fledgling and the sire." Andy throttles down a surge of anger, "Two lives when it could have been just one. Thanks ever so much."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Josef turns to Mick, "Maybe it didn't work. Her crazy used to make sense."

Andy sits up, pushing Mark's hands away, "What would have made sense was for you to have kept running when I told you to. Why did you go back?"

"I didn't expect you to be alive!" Josef snaps, "I might not have if I thought you were. Had to erase evidence. That was it. But your heart was still beating."

"Stop it!"

Andy flinches from her husband and Mick's angry tones together.

Mick continues with a hand on Mark's shoulder, "I know where this is going and it's stupid. So stop, both of you."

Andy glares at him, "Just one answer, first?"

Mick sighs and shakes his head.

She looks up at Josef, "Why Mark, Josef?"

He frowns, "He's your husband."

"Who didn't deserve this."

"His wife surviving? Really?" Josef coughs, "Remind me never to ask what he does deserve, then."

"Not _that."_ Andy clenches her jaw at Josef's deliberate goading.

"I did what I had to."

"So, the ends justify the means. Again." She whispers, "I thought vampires kept their souls."

"_Fuck_ you!"

"You've already done worse."

A moment of appalled silence, then cacophony. Andy holds Josef's angry stare with her own, her lip curled, ignoring the two other's voices.

Josef also remains still, but his thoughts are like daggers, _What, then, would make you happy? You are alive!_

Andy bites back a sob, _Did it ever occur to you that I'd have rather died?_

She ignores Mark's strangled objection and continues, _I'm done, Josef. Done. But no one will let me fucking GO!_

Josef flinches away, closing his mind to her. Andy lunges at him, frustration and fear twisting into rage. Hands clamp on an arm and a wing, she's pulled into a cool chest, struggling. Pain lances across her ribs and wing. Instinct sends her reaching for energy but half-healed channels burn at the touch of it. The hands loosen, she twists and is on her knees inches from the crystal sword. It's warmth in her hands, she's spinning, the vibration of a deflected blow down her arms. Gutteral snarls punctuate her feint, a panicked human voice adds to the din. A warm body between her and the two cold ones, a warm touch on her soul, she winces from the reminder of loss; the insistent pressure of conscience, the plea to stop, to think, to live.

Cold hands, dead hands, living soul, vibrant mind. He holds her, implacable. The hands twist the bloody sword from her fist, the mind reaches to touch hers. Despair struggles against empathy, fading in the merciless light of acceptance. Another mind, shadowed with hurt, and fear, but courageous, steadfast. Warm hands replace the cold, resistance crumbles and darkness floods her mind.


	22. Chapter 22

So this finishes "Measure of a Monster". Thanks for everything!

* * *

"Damn, it!" Agony courses up his arm, radiating from his fingertips to his shoulder. He bites his lip, tears squeezing out the corners of his eyes; his blood feels like hot acid as it runs down his skin.

"Josef?" Mick glances over his shoulder steadying Andy's husband as the man staggers to the edge of the bed holding the unconscious guardian.

Panting through his teeth, "Hurts." Josef feels his knees buckle.

Mick rushes to his side, "Let me see."

Reluctantly, Josef allows Mick to take his elbow.

Mick recoils after a touch, "Shit, Josef. Your blood is hot."

"What?" He grits his teeth, "Feels like it, but figured it was just because it hurts like hell. And isn't getting better."

"The sword." Mick frowns, "She cut you with the sword, man. Shit."

Josef closes his eyes slowly, biting back a curse. "Her blood kills. What does the sword do?"

Mick swallows, "Don't know for sure. But it went right through your radius, and there's no evidence that you are healing. The skin around the wound is warm, but the blood now feels like it's cooling. What the hell?"

"Can you fix it?" Josef opens his eyes, "Guierrmo left a bunch of stuff in that box."

"I can stitch it up and put on a splint, but I can't say that'll fix it, Josef." Mick moves towards the supplies.

"He'll be fine." Both vampires jump at Mark's voice.

"What?" Mick asks, his hands full of bandages.

Mark rubs his eyes, expression bleak, "The sword only kills a vampire if it hits something vital, like the heart. Or the neck."

Josef winces, "How do you know?"

"How do you think?" He continues, "But it stops whatever it is that makes you a vampire where it cuts you. It'll heal slow, like a human. And scar."

"What the hell just happened? She went nuts." Josef ignores the shrill tone of his voice, "Scar?"

"She wants to die."

Josef flinches from the guardian's husband, "She can't."

Mick sighs, kneeling next to him. He puts down the medical supplies, "Let me patch you up. We'll figure this out later."

"But..." Josef stops, confused. "Fine. Later."

* * *

"Hey."

The dark lump at the end of the couch shifts slightly, "Hey, yourself."

Mick moves the rest of the way into the room, "Should you be up?" He eases himself onto the couch, hoping to not jar the half-healed guardian.

"Thirty-odd hours of unconsciousness makes for a pretty bad case of insomnia." Andy's still-rough voice takes on a tinge of humor.

Mick smiles, "I guess it would. Where's Mark?"

A pause, then, "Sleeping."

Mick reaches behind him and clicks on the small lamp on the end table. Its dim light barely brightens the corner of the large room. Soft snores from under a door yards from them confirm Andy's comment about her husband. "What's wrong, Andy? This afternoon..." He trails off.

Andy lifts her head from the arm of the couch, and glances at him. Pain burns in her dark eyes before she looks away, running her hand through her tangled hair. "I can't..."

Mick frowns and bites his lip. "I really don't understand."

"It's forever, Mick." She goes still. "How long do you think I'm going to be able to continue this? I might make it through the next one. Maybe. But I'm getting slower; the old scars hurt at night. How much more am I going to be able to take? What's he going to do, then?"

"I..."

She interrupts, "He should have let me die."

"No, Andy. Josef couldn't do that." Mick leans forward a little, trying to stay quiet.

"The coward," Andy hisses, fists clenched. "He knew what the cost would be, but just let Mark pay it. Did he even tell him?"

"Tell him what? You never explained, you just lost it." Mick winces.

Andy lifts her chin, "I wish you hadn't stopped me."

Mick raises an eyebrow, "And you'd have explained decapitating Josef to your husband, how?"

"He's terrified of me anyway." She wilts, curling in on herself under the blanket around her shoulders.

"No, he isn't." Mick reaches out and pulls the blanket back when Andy's silence stretches too long, "Listen to me. He's afraid, yes. For you. You didn't see his face when he saw you. He loves you."

Tears slip down her cheeks, but she doesn't respond, just stares across the room.

Mick slides off the couch and moves in front of her, sitting on his heels on the soft cream carpeting. "Look at me."

She closes her eyes, "No."

Mick clenches his teeth, "Look at me." He reaches out and takes her hand.

Her eyes fly open and she tries to pull away. Wordless despair turns to anger, and fear.

Mick winces, but holds on. "I'm not going to hurt you. Remember when you told me that? Now listen to me. He loves you. That's all that matters."

Andy stares into his eyes, then drops her head back onto the arm of the couch. "That only makes it worse."

"Makes what worse, Andy? I still don't understand." Mick tries to stifle his frustration, knowing it would only put her off.

"Neither do I."

Mick feels Andy stiffen, a wash of hate filling his mind. He drops her hand and shakes his head, trying to clear it of the guardian's anger, "Don't. Either of you. Get out of here, Josef."

Josef's eyes flash, "It's my house, Mick. I'll go where I please."

Mick stands, clamps a hand on Andy's shoulder. She freezes at his touch, but continues to glare at Josef. Mick whispers to his old friend, "Not the time, Josef. Get out."

Josef's lip curls, "It's the perfect time. Her husband is out of the way, and she was about to explain to you her reason for such lack of gratefulness at my efforts to save her life and her marriage."

Andy trembles under Mick's hand, "I will kill you for what you did to him, you bastard."

"No, Andy." Mick presses her back into the couch cushions.

"Let her go, Mick." Josef spreads his hands, the bandage covering his forearm a mute reproach.

"Stop. It. Now." Mick enunciates each word, focusing on calm. He looks down at Andy, "Why? What did Josef do, exactly? From what I could tell, he just told Mark how he could save your life."

She looks up, "If Beth were dying, would you Turn her to save her?"

Mick feels as if Andy just stabbed him in the chest. He recoils from her and backs away. "What are you asking?"

"Because, what Mark did is as irrevocable. And will bring him more pain than you carry." Andy's voice goes cold, "But Josef didn't bother to tell him."

"Tell him what? I just passed to him the information I'd learned from the old professor. That there's a fail-safe for keeping you freaks around when you're dying. I don't have any idea what you're going on so very dramatically about." Josef's whisper is laden with sarcasm, but Mick can hear the note of uncertainty under the words.

Andy stares, her mouth dropping open slowly, "You don't..."

Mick and Josef both shake their heads.

She snaps her jaw shut with a click of teeth. "Fuck."

Mick blinks at the unexpected curse, "Andy?"

She takes a deep breath, looks up at Josef, takes two more. "You didn't know?"

"Know _what?_" Josef whines.

"This just keeps getting better." Andy shifts upright, bad wing trailing on the floor. "Sit."

Mick glances at Josef and shrugs, "Okay." He sits next to Andy.

Josef folds his arms across his chest a moment before sighing and perching on the edge of the chair opposite the end table.

"Josef, did it ever occur to you to wonder how, exactly, blood to blood contact would heal me?" Andy's question is soft, tired-sounding.

Mick frowns at her.

Josef shakes his head, picking at the tape on his arm.

Andy lifts an eyebrow. "It's not like vampires. I'm not this way because of a mutated virus."

"We are not sick." The growl rumbles low in Josef's chest.

"I never said you were. Vampirism is like mitochondria in humans; symbiosis so fully integrated that the two organisms are indistinguishable and unable to exist without each other." Andy snorts, "And when have I ever behaved as if I had a problem with what you are?"

Josef's lip curls.

Mick half-stands in response, "Josef."

"Enough." Andy puts her hand on his arm, "Mick, stop." She continues, "My entire DNA is changed, changes every time I shift. I'm less human than you are. Or haven't you noticed the feathers?"

Josef coughs, sounding suspiciously to Mick as if he's trying to stifle a chuckle, "Point taken."

"Good." Andy leans back into the couch. "Anyway, it's not the blood that causes me to be able to heal, it's what the contact triggers at the subcellular level."

"The what level?" Mick leans forward to put his elbows on his knees, "Look, I was a medic in World War Two, but you are getting a little beyond me here."

"Really?" Andy cocks her head, "Wow. I don't even...How old are you?"

"Nice." Josef snickers, "He's eighty-four. Back on subject, please? I'm getting bored."

Andy blinks, "Huh. Okay. Where was I?"

"Oh for the love of..." Josef groans, "Subcellular?"

"Right." Andy takes a breath, "Everything is energy, objects, people. Living things are awash in it; it flows though them from the environment, powering everything they do, becoming tissues or driving movement or whatever. Blood carries a huge amount of energy; that's how that guardian powered the shit she did. She knew there would be energy where ever blood was spilled so she didn't have to see it, she could just use it."

"So that's how blood sustains us?" Mick mulls the idea against the feeling of feeding. _It fits. Huh._

"Probably. I haven't really made a point to study how you work, though." Andy smiles, "Wasn't much of a priority, sorry."

"Focus." The old vamp taps his foot on the carpet.

The guardian's head turns slowly towards Josef, "I still want to kill you."

"Andy!" Mick grabs her shoulder.

A little sparkle dances in her eyes, "Just saying." Her expression sobers, "Connecting the blood connects the energy."

Josef shakes his head, "So?"

"So? It connects us." Andy narrows her eyes at him, then sighs when he just looks at her blankly. "The blood to blood contact triggers a bond. We became one entity for a little while, making it so that whatever happens to one, happens to the other in that moment."

Mick drops his hand from Andy's shoulder, "I still don't understand."

"That's how I could heal myself. I was him as much as he was me. If I died, he'd die. It releases whatever resources I have so that I could save him. So he could save me." She looks earnestly at Mick, then Josef, then whispers. "When it's over, it leaves a permanent tie; a tie that, when broken, leaves a gaping psychic wound."

"Then don't break it." Josef hisses. "It's that simple. And, now, explain to me what I did that was so awful."

Andy's face hardens. "I'm not talking divorcing him, here, you ass. I'd never hurt him intentionally, but how long do you think I'm going to survive as a guardian? When am I going to run into something that's going to win? Then what do you think will happen to him?"

"He'll mourn, then get on with his life. But he'll have had twenty more years with you than if I hadn't told him how to save you. I didn't make him do it, you know. I just told him what might work to keep your heart beating." Josef leans back against the chair and crosses his legs.

With each word, Andy goes a bit more rigid. Mick reaches for her, but stops before touching her arm, "Andy? It's not that simple, is it?"

She shakes her head, "No."

Josef frowns, "How do you know it isn't, Anderyn?"

She looks at him, eyes black, as the cutting sorrow briefly flaring in her expression answers the question.

Mick feels his breath catch in his chest, "Oh, God."

She turns her head away and shrugs. The ticking of the clock on the mantel across the room grows loud as the silence stretches into the dim corners of the room.

Josef suddenly stands and steps towards Andy. Mick responds with a low growl and rises to block him.

"That's not what I intend, Mick. Let me pass." Josef meets Mick's glare, his chocolate eyes transparent for once. The shadows Mick sees in them drops his hands to his sides, and he steps out of Josef's way. Mick watches him kneel in front of Andy who stares at a fixed point over Josef's shoulder.

Josef runs his eyes across the guardian's face. Slowly he lifts his hand towards her; it trembles. His jaw clenches as his fingers brush her cheek, "So you know I'm not lying to you."

Andy doesn't respond.

Josef drops his head, but leaves his hand in place. "I am...so sorry."

Andy's eyes close, forehead wrinkling, but she remains silent.

"I tend to repeat my mistakes. My father," Josef's face twists on the word, "always said that I was a slow learner, and stubborn." Josef smiles, melancholy touching his features, "My sister claimed I was a coward, and ran from my fears. I hope to have learned something since then."

Andy opens her eyes, focusing down at Josef's bowed head, "You don't have to do this."

He looks up, "I do. You deserve my apologies. But regret changes nothing, and I can offer you little else."

"It's enough." The whisper so quiet, Mick is unsure if it was spoken or thought.

Josef nods, blinking rapidly, and stands with his usual grace. "I'll leave you to your rest, then."

Andy curls her legs under her, and folds herself against the arm of the couch.

Mick watches her breaths slow, then reaches down and pulls the throw back up over her shoulders. He looks to Josef who nods and flips off the lamp. Both vampires turn and leave the guardian alone in the darkness.

* * *

Cue episode four.


End file.
